


Cheesy Tropey Drabbly Bits

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Series: CheesyTropes [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Anal Sex, Angel Castiel, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arranged Marriage, Attempt at Humor, Bad Puns, Bartender Dean, Best Friends, Bodyswap, Boys Kissing, Castiel Has a Guinea Pig, Castiel Wearing Dean Winchester's Clothes, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Castles, Cheese, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coffee Shops, Cunnilingus, Curses, Demon Dean, Desert Island, Desert Island Fic, Dream Sex, Elevator Sex, F/F, Female Homosexuality, Female Protagonist, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, Gothic, Handcuffed Together, Hunted Vampires, Hurt Castiel, Intercrural Sex, Kid Sam Winchester, Kidnapped Castiel, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, King Castiel, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Love Letters, M/M, Mistletoe, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nanny Dean, Not literal cheese, Online Relationship, Online Shopping, Orphan Castiel, Peasant Dean, Puns & Word Play, Rimming, SPN the bottle, Sex Pollen, Sharing Clothes, Slow Burn, Smut, Snowed In, Spin the Bottle, Stranded, Strangers to Lovers, Superhero Dean, Swiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Female Character, Trapped In Elevator, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires, Virgin Castiel, Virgin Dean, also possibly sugar, anyway, at least not yet, but not really, cheddar - Freeform, cheese and more cheese, coconut smut, explicitly stated naked butts, fanboy!Castiel, gothic cheese, gouda, i don't know how to tag for this thing, i tagged for an invisible ship, implied and explicitly stated naked butts, implied potential future sabriel in like one line, kinda i guess, kinda sorta but not really dubcon, maybe dessert cheese?, mild dubcon but not really, minty freshness, more cheese, rockstar!dean, sort of, there are you fuckers happy?, they aren't brothers, weird familial dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 57,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of cheesy tropes. Each chapter will be a new trope ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anonymous Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

> (based on [this](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge) and not in order or beta read.) (also available in [Chinese](http://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404143581790091000%20), thanks to InnocentDays!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean get anonymous letters in his locker and wants them to be from his best friend Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bad idea. Why am I doing this? Haven't I written half these already? Oh, well. Here goes... (based on [this](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge) and not in order or beta read.)

Dean has been getting a new anonymous letter in his locker everyday for the past two weeks. The first couple were pretty short and to the point, but they started verging on the poetic now. The very first one had barely been a letter at all.

_Dear Dean,_

_I just wanted you to know that I think you're wonderful._

_Love,_

_An admirer_

 

Dean had read it, smiled, and moved on, sure it was some girl who had been hoping he'd ask her out—or one of his friends thinking they were being cute. Either way, Dean had too many other things to worry about. Like the beyond annoying crush he'd been developing on his best friend. As if thinking of him had conjured him, Cas appeared behind Dean, startling him as he almost always did.

"Another letter?"

"Yeah."

"What's this one say?"

Dean scratched his head. "Um, it's pretty long."

"I don't mind. Read it to me." Cas shrugged, like they had all the time in the world. 

Which, since Dean knew they were both planning to ditch study hall, he supposed they sort of did.

"Fine, but let's wait till we get outside. It's too froufrou for the hallways, man."

Dean led the way to the abandoned bleachers on the southside of the school. He ducked under them and Cas followed. Dean cleared his throat and read what was written on the paper.

_My Dearest Dean,_

_Everyday I love you a little more. Your green eyes are the best thing I see,_

_from the time I wake up in the morning until I go to bed at night._

_I wish you could see yourself the way that I do. I know you think you're nothing_

_special, but the truth is, you're the most amazing person I've ever met. You're_

_so smart and funny and kind that it's kind of unfair to the rest of us, honestly._

_One day, I hope to be brave enough to tell you how I feel in person._

_Until then I remain,_

_Your loving secret admirer_

"Wow," Cas said. "They really sound like they know you." He looked sad, which was weird.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, make fun. I just wish I knew who they were."

"I'm not making fun of you, Dean. You  _are_ kind and funny and amazing and all those things they said." Cas was staring at the dirt he was scuffing with his boots, rather than at Dean.

"Cas... you can't just  _say_ things like that, man!"  _It really fucks with my head because I'm kinda falling for you, dammit._

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, Dean. It happens to be true." He looked up and pinned Dean in place with his gaze.

Dean stared into Cas' earnest, too-blue eyes for a long moment. "Cas... did you write these?"

Slowly, Cas shook his head. "No." He took a deep breath. "But I wish I had."

Dean felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and his skin felt all hot and funny. He finally forced his brain to get back online so that he could speak, but it wasn't easy.

"I wish you had too."

It was a whisper, but Cas looked as shocked as if Dean had yelled.

"You... do?"

Dean nodded.

Before he could say anything, Cas was surging forward and pressing those pretty, thick lips to his. Dean spared a brief thought of guilt toward his secret admirer.  _Sorry, whoever you are. I got it bad for someone else._ When Cas' tongue flicked out and into his mouth, Dean got over feeling guilty.

~@~

From the alcove a few yards away, the pale hand of a redhead reached out toward the slightly less pale hand of a blonde.

"Pay up Harvelle. I told you it wouldn't take more than two weeks."

"Dammit, Bradbury! I thought they were both  _way_ more repressed than this." Jo slapped a twenty into Charlie's hand and stomped away in a huff.

Charlie just watched her two best friends make out and grinned.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first installment. As I write this, I haven't written the ficlet yet. So tell me how I did? Love you ♥


	2. Idol/Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's a rock star with a secret. Cas is a fan with a secret of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from me. I don't even know what happened here, but I'm not sorry. This is 5 inches cheesy with a side of cheesiness and an extra helping of cheese.

The crowd roared as Dean hit the last note and wailed on the guitar to end the song.

 _Thank God for auto-tuning microphones_ , Dean thought for the millionth time since he’d first been discovered.

The thing was, Dean couldn’t sing for shit. What he could do was play guitar like a man possessed and work a crowd like nobody’s business. Those talents combined with his natural good looks and his very special mic meant he’d been playing to sold out arenas for the past six months.

All the venues, from the earliest shitty clubs to the huge stadiums he now played with his band, knew about his “lucky microphone.” The people in charge of stage setup were always given instructions to leave the lead mic stand empty. No one ever questioned it—Dean would bring his lucky mic.

When he went into the studio to record—which so far had only been for two albums—it was always only with people in the know present. No rookies were allowed in the space when he was singing. He didn’t use his lucky mic then. Recording studio magic was responsible for his auto-tuning then.

The only time things got tricky was when they had VIPs and a fan would ask him to sing. Not such a big deal when it was a group of them. His manager would say, “He’s got to save his voice” or something similar.

When it was one of the rare times that someone—usually it was a girl who asked him to sing, but it wasn’t always girls who ended up alone with him—got him alone, groupie-style, that was when it became trickier. He always used the “Gotta save my voice” line, but it didn’t always work well enough to continue with the festivities groupies were known for.

After the first month, he kind of lost interest in the whole groupie scene, for a lot of reasons, his terrible singing voice being only a minor one. Deep down he knew his brother’s engagement had a lot to do with it, but he kept up the rock star image and didn’t admit that out loud.

~@~

“Damn, that guy down in front really has a thing for you,” Benny said during a break to set up. He was retuning his bass and not even looking at Dean when he said it.

“What are you talking about? What guy?” Dean wasn’t really interested, but he had a reputation to maintain.

Benny snorted. “The one with the killer blue eyes who hasn’t stopped staring at you for a single second since we came out.”

Then Dean spotted him and _damn_ if the intensity of that stare didn’t do things to Dean’s lower half. It should have been creepy, probably, but the guy didn’t seem to have the single-minded focus of a creeper. The stare felt more like someone who loved elephants seeing one in the wild for the first time.

“Why don’t you pull him up on stage during the next set? You know the fans love that shit.”

It was true. Dean’s manager had thrown a fit the first time Dean had pulled a guy up on stage instead of a girl, but the next day Crowley had eaten his words when all the press about Dean being a “hero of bisexual representation” had come out. There’d been no backlash at all, so far as they could tell. Benny said people just loved Dean that much. Dean didn’t know if that was true, but he knew he was lucky.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, not really planning to follow through.

Halfway through his song _Raised from Perdition_ , though, he locked eyes with his admirer again. Dean was leaning down and reaching out before he even knew he was going to do it. The guy had body paint from the people next to him all over his hands, so when he reached up to grab Dean’s shoulder, Dean ended up with a bright red handprint on his shirt.

“Marking me up already?” Dean asked him in a sultry voice.

The guy licked his lips at the thought and Dean smirked.

“Whoa, there, buddy. After the show, maybe, huh?”

Dean sang the rest of the song straight to the blue-eyed guy—who was all kinds of hot now that Dean could see more than just those eyes—for the rest of the song. They only had a handful of songs left to play and Dean kept his fan onstage for the duration.

“Wait here,” Dean instructed as they walked off stage for their pre-encore break.

He didn’t know what the guy did while they were behind the stage, but when they walked back out to manic cheers, Blue Eyes was still in the same spot, looking like he hadn’t moved a muscle.

Finally, _finally_ , the show was over and Dean held out a hand to Blue Eyes as the band walked off the stage for the final time.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” Dean asked as they walked.

“Castiel.”

“How long you been a fan, Castiel?”

Castiel looked uncomfortable, but before either of them could say more, Crowley was calling Dean’s name.

“Gimme one sec, Cas.”

Dean walked over to Crowley to see what was up.

“There’s some kind of issue with the plumbing in the dressing rooms, so it’s straight back to the bus,” Crowley said.

“Shit, we’re gonna have to do the speaker thing, aren’t we?”

Sometimes, when they had to leave while a throng of fans was still outside, they had to sneak Dean out in a fake speaker. It was a little humiliating.

“Afraid so, love. What will you do about your boy there? He coming with?”

“Guess I better go ask.”

Dean jogged back over to Castiel.

“Hey, there’s a problem with backstage, so we gotta head straight back to the bus. You wanna come? We’ll probably head out of here right away, but we won’t leave town for at least a couple hours.”

Castiel bit his lip. “I would like to join you on the bus, if you don’t mind.”

Dean laughed. Castiel was not a typical fanboy at all. “No, gorgeous, I don’t mind.” Dean scratched his head, embarrassed. “Uh, listen, since there are still so many people outside, I have to hide in a speaker box. You should probably join me.”

“O-oh, okay,” Cas said, visibly swallowing.

The next few minutes were a blur. Dean was so focused on getting out without being seen that he didn’t have much brain power for anything else. Suddenly, though, he was inside the speaker, the smell and warmth of Castiel right up close to him and his focus shifted.

“You, uh, smell good.” _Could you possibly be more lame, rockerboy?_ Dean groaned in his head.

“Thank you. I bathed.”

It was too dark to see his face, but Dean could tell the little shit was smirking at him.

“Ooh, hot and sassy, huh?” Dean asked, normal bravado levels kicking back in.

“If by sassy you mean willing to call people out on their bullshit, then, yes. I am sassy.”

Dean snorted. “I like you, Cas. You’re not a typical fanboy. It’s nice.” _Plus you are super fucking hot_.

Castiel was quiet and the air was suddenly tense. Then Castiel sighed and cleared his throat.

“I, um, I have a confession.”

“All right boys, let’s get this last one loaded up and get a move on!” Crowley shouted from just outside the box.

Apparently they had new people working or maybe his guys were just tired, but the fake speaker he and Castiel were in lurched to Dean’s side suddenly, throwing Dean back and Castiel on top of him. Instead of worrying about what was happening or listening to whatever Crowley was screaming, Dean just went with his first instinct and kissed the everloving fuck out of Castiel.

Dean had had his share of kisses. Truth be told, he’d had a few other people’s shares of kisses as well. This kiss with Cas, though. Hands down it was the best one ever. Their mouths just fit perfectly together. Castiel knew just when to move and how and for how long.

Just when the kiss might have spiraled out of control, they were shifted again, breaking them apart and putting them back upright. Their joint panting was loud in the enclosed space, but Dean couldn’t find his voice to speak and apparently Castiel felt the same—or just had nothing to say.

“All right, Dean, the other bus is in place to block the view. We’re getting you out now.”

The next few minutes were another blur as they were removed from the speaker and moved down from the truck over to the waiting tour bus. Castiel looked as shell-shocked as Dean felt, so Dean reached out and took his hand. He smiled to reassure him and Cas smiled back.

Once they were finally back in Dean’s private compartment, they didn’t waste time on talking. Castiel made quick work of Dean’s clothes and then proceeded to give him the best blowjob of his life. Dean happily returned the favor and then they both collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

When he could move again, Dean grabbed them both cold water bottles from the bedside fridge. They both sat up to drink and Dean chugged about half of his before turning to Castiel again.

“So. What was that about a confession?”

Cas’s blue-eyed gaze dropped to the bed. “It might upset you.”

Dean moved back slightly, wondering what the hell Castiel was going to tell him. “Spit it out, man. You just sucked my dick. It’s a little late to be shy now.”

“I don’t—” Cas blew out a harsh breath. “You called me a fanboy, but... I’m tone deaf. I don’t actually enjoy music very much.”

“I—you—what? Wait, wait, why would you—”

“My friend loves your music,” Castiel blurted. “She’s obsessed with it really. She made me listen to one of your albums and I didn’t care much, but... then she started making me watch interviews.” Cas peeked up at Dean and then looked back at a fascinating piece of lint on the bed covers. “I was prepared to humor her because you were hot, but then... I started listening to what you had to say and how you talked about your brother and music and... I kind of... got a crush on you, in spite of not caring for your music.” He looked at Dean fully now. “Sorry.”

Dean burst out laughing. He yanked Castiel toward him and squeezed him into a hug. When Castiel’s forehead creased down the middle in a confused frown, Dean laughed even harder.

“Dude... I have a confession to make too.” Dean took a deep breath and grinned. “I can’t fucking sing.”

_Fuck it feels good to say that out loud._

“You... what? I mean, I know I’m tone deaf, but other people seem to really enj—”

“Auto-tuning, man. I couldn’t hit a note with both hands.”

Castiel blinked a few times, wide-eyed. Then he too broke out into laughter.

 _He’s so adorable when he laughs_.

Then Dean realized that this night had an expiration date. Cas had a real life to get back to. One that didn’t include pretty boy rockers who couldn’t really sing. Before he could get maudlin, though, he was distracted by another thought.

“So, wait. Was your friend with you tonight? It looked like you were by yourself.”

Castiel grimaced. “No. She felt sorry for me and gave me her ticket.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Wait, just because you had a crush on me?”

Cas let out a small huff that might have been a laugh. “No, I’m not quite that pathetically hard up for dates, thanks.” He smiled to show he was kidding. Then he sobered and cleared his throat. “No, she felt bad because I got fired this morning.”

“Oh, shit, man, that sucks!”

“Yeah, and my roommate and coworker has been looking for an excuse to kick me out, so that gave him one.”

“You should come on the road with me,” Dean’s mouth blurted before his brain gave it permission.

Dean wasn’t sure whose face looked more shocked by the suggestion, his or Castiel’s.

“What?” Cas looked like he wasn’t sure how to react. He also looked a bit like he wanted to say yes, but logic was winning. “I would love to, but I don’t know why you’re asking. _I’m_ the one with the crush.”

“Well, I mean, you don’t have a job or a place to live right now.” Dean shrugged. “Besides, shouldn’t I get a chance to have a crush on you too?” _I already do because I’m a big sap, but I should at least get to know you well enough to justify it._

Castiel stared at him for a long moment with narrowed eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me or the dumbest.”

Dean laughed and scratched his neck. “Maybe both?”

Cas smiled back. “Maybe both,” he agreed with a nod. “What would I do, though, if I came with you?”

“Whatever you want. What are you good at? I mean, we need a roadie and you look like you’re strong enough to do that, if you wanted. Or you could take classes online. I don’t know, man.” Dean was panicking a little.

“What I’m good at is languages, but yes, I could probably be a roadie too.”

“Languages?” Dean asked, perking up. “You speak French?”

“Yes, fluently.”

“Shit, man, Benny and I have been talking about doing an album in French, since he’s Cajun, but he doesn’t speak it well enough to translate my lyrics into something that works for our songs. Could you help with that? We could definitely pay you for that.”

Castiel’s face lit up. “That’s really something you’ve been planning? You’re not making up a job for me?”

“No, man, it’s legit.” Dean leaned close. “Is that a yes?”

Cas kissed him again. “Yes. Take me with you.”

Dean grinned and picked up his phone. “Crowley, slight detour.” He covered the phone with his hand. “What’s your address?” he whispered. Cas gave it and Dean repeated it to Crowley. “Or as close as we can get, anyway. Castiel is coming with us and he needs to pack first.”

“Who?” Crowley barked.

“The guy you packed in the speaker with me, jackass, who do you think?”

There was dead silence for a beat, then Dean could hear Crowley giving the driver the address. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Dean.”

Dean looked into those blue eyes. “Yeah, for the first time in a while, I think maybe I do.”

Cas pulled him forward and Dean hung up the phone. This time the blow jobs were even better.

~@~

**_13 months later_ **

_Dean Winchester, lead singer of The BlackImps, announced his engagement today to Castiel Devine. He and Devine collaborated on The BlackImps’s French album last year and sources say they have been inseparable ever since. However, a friend of Devine’s, who wished to remain anonymous tells us that the two have been a couple since before that. “Clarence had a crush on Dean forever. I gave him my seat to The BlackImps concert when they came to town and he never came back.” Dean’s manager, Fergus Crowley, refused to comment, but the bassist, Benny LaFitte, had this to say: “All I know is, I’ve never seen Dean look at anybody else the way he looks at Castiel Devine. I don’t think when they got together matters a whole lot, cher. I introduced them, though.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je t'aime, mes amis. Parlez, s'il te plaît. ♥


	3. Zombie AU?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas calls Dean about a situation. Zombies in the bunker? Or maybe it's something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trope was zombie au. This is what my brain did, presumably because i don't like zombies. I have no excuses. I have only confusion and head scratching. I think this might be considered crack. Or possibly my brain is cracked? I'm not sure. Off to go figure out what tags to add now. Wish me luck.

“Dean!” Cas shouted into the phone. “Dean, we have a situation. I need you to come back to the bunker as soon as possible!”

“Damn, Cas, what the hell is it? I just barely finished off the vamps and already we got another situation?” He frowned as he passed a white-haired man who seemed to think the speed limit had a decimal between the numbers.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I know you wanted to rest, but this is urgent. It’s zombies, Dean.”

“Aw, shit. Dammit, man, that’s almost as bad as witches.” Dean sighed heavily and reached for a cassette in the glove box. “All right, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

~@~

“Cas,” Dean said slowly, trying not to let any of his blind rage bleed through into his voice. “ _That_ ,” he said, pointing. “Is a guinea pig. It is not a zombie.”

“Dean, it was _dead_. Now it isn’t. That is the very definition of a zombie!” the former angel shouted.

Dean sighed. Getting angry wouldn’t solve anything. And Cas really was a baby in a trenchcoat these days, all raw emotions and kicked puppy eyes when Dean got mad at him about anything. He rolled his head around, stretching his neck.

“Cas. Are you sure it wasn’t just _sleeping_?” Dean said it with care, doing his best not to make it sound like he thought Cas was an idiot. Even though, at this particular moment, he thought Cas might be an idiot.

“Dean, I—” Cas stopped and his face went blank. “No,” he admitted.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and nodded. “All right, man. Well, no harm done. Your guinea pig is fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, it’s all... fine.”

God, what he wouldn’t give for a massage to go with the whiskey he was about to knock back. _What you wouldn’t give for Cas to be the one massaging you, you mean_ , his asshole of an inner voice said.

Cas gave him the same squinty-eyed look and head tilt he’d loved for so long. “You’re in pain.”

Graceless or not, Cas could still read him too easily some times.

“Nah, just sore muscles, man. No big deal.”

Cas opened his mouth and leaned forward as if he wanted to speak, but then he dropped back, closing his mouth.

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his shoulders.

“Sore muscles are something I can fix without grace,” Cas said in a quiet rush. “If you would permit me.”

Dean waged an internal debate. He could do that, right? Let Cas massage him? It wouldn’t be a big deal, would it? Nah, it didn’t have to be. There were probably straight friends who massaged each other... right?

Weak excuse or not, Dean nodded. Cas smiled in a way that made Dean feel a little scared of what was about to happen. That smile was not innocent and friendly. Dean might be in trouble.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, where should we—mmph!”

Without warning, Cas had shoved him up against the wall and pressed their mouths firmly together. That glorious tongue, which Dean had spent hours watching tentatively lick new foods before eating, was not at all tentative when it brushed against Dean’s lips. It demanded entrance in no uncertain terms and Dean granted it happily.

“Mmmmm,” he moaned into Cas’s mouth as the kiss deepened.

Cas might not have his grace anymore, but he still tasted like Heaven. His tongue was cool, as if he’d been eating mint, but the flavor was spicy, like cinnamon and something more. Then Cas was pulling back, biting Dean’s lower lip and Dean was opening his eyes in a haze.

The further away from him Cas drew, the more Dean returned to his senses.

“What was that, Cas?” he breathed out when he could get enough air for it.

“Do your muscles feel better?”

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Muscles?”

His brain was not fully back online. Half of it was still wrapped up in Cas. The other half wanted desperately to be back there.

Cas smiled again, this time with the sick glee he only got when he was going to say something Dean would regret hearing.

“It’s good you came home when you did.”

“It is?”

“There is another zombie situation.”

Cas’s face was setting off all of Dean’s warning bells, but he couldn’t do anything to stop what he knew was coming.

“I have a zombie in my pants, Dean.”

“Cas, no—”

“No matter how many times I shoot, it keeps rising from the dead.”

“Please, stop—”

“I think I need your help with a head shot.”

“Oh, God—”

Cas crowded into his space again and, lame jokes aside, his blood rushed first through his ears and then straight down to his dick.

“Will you help me, Dean?” Cas asked in a low growl, grinding his “zombie” cock against Dean’s crotch.

“Aw, fuck,” Dean said, defeated. This was never how he’d pictured this, but right at this moment, he didn’t give two shits. “Kiss me again, you giant dork,” he panted.

“With pleasure, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me gustaría que me hables por favor! (hover for rough translation) ♥


	4. Angel/Demon AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible explanation of what happened in the fan fiction gap between the infamous "Angel!Cas grips Demon!Dean from behind" and "Cas and Sam take Dean to be healed" scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this is. It is not as fluffy as the others. There is still much cheese.

  
When Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, he felt the pulse of want that went through the demonized Winchester.

He’d learned much about the human condition since he’d become one for a brief time. He’d learned more in the past year than in the entire rest of his time on Earth, he thought. Since that was thousands of years, he knew Dean—the real Dean, not this twisted version—would probably say he was “pretty sad.”

The demon in his arms shifted—deliberately Cas was sure—so that his ass rubbed against Cas’s crotch. Cas felt his own pulse of want, but he held it in check. He’d been fighting off his attraction to Dean Winchester for years. Surely he could last another hour?

“Come on, Cas, let’s get him back to the dungeon.”

 _Yes_ , thought Cas. _Let “us” do that. Standing there making your famous unhappy face is a big help to me._

Cas knew the thoughts were unkind and he would feel guilty later. Right now he was wrestling two hundred thirty-five pounds worth of angry demon, in the shape of the man he’d been trying—and failing—not to fall in love with for more than five years. He was feeling a little churlish and thought he was entitled.

Dean was issuing a constant low growl that Cas had to admit was arousing. Though Dean’s soul was tainted and twisted at the moment, it was still the most beautiful soul he’d ever seen in his tenure as an angel. Since he’d, again, been alive for millennia, would Dean think that was sad too?

 _More likely he wouldn’t believe it_ , Cas thought with a pang. Dean was so broken even before the Mark.

“You sons of bitches think you can break me? You can’t break me!” Dean yelled as he was forcibly strapped to the chair.

In this instance, Sam was of great assistance, Cas acknowledged.

Dean, it seemed, was hellbent on making Cas as uncomfortable as possible, probably to stop them from curing him of being a demon. Every time Sam turned his head, Dean made a suggestive face or rolled his hips. Sam, thankfully, seemed oblivious to Cas’s discomfort and Dean’s obvious state of arousal.

After half an hour of Dean licking his lips and thrusting his hardon in Cas’s direction, however, the angel couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sam, I think it’s best if you leave me with him for a little while.”

Sam was exhausted, but he still put up a protest.

“What? No, it’s fine, Cas. I’ve got this. I—”

“Sam, I really think you would benefit from some rest. It’s not going to hurt one way or the other for it to take another hour to cure him.”

Sam sighed, nodding and acknowledging that Cas was right—even if his reasons were, as Dean would say, complete crap.

“Yeah. All right. Call me if you need me. Otherwise, I’m gonna be sacked out in my room.” He stopped on his way out. “No more than an hour, though, all right? If I’m not back then, come get me.”

“I will, Sam.”

No sooner had the door closed behind him than Dean started talking.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me, angel. Let me guess—secret demon kink?”

“No!” Cas said forcefully. “I find your current state vile and repugnant. However, I am attracted to your body regardless of the state of your soul and I don’t want a distraction causing us to fail in your cure.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you know normal me would never let you do this, right? He’s gonna hate you, in fact. Doesn’t think he’s _good_ enough,” Demon Dean said with a laugh. He rolled his hips. “I’ll show you a good time, though, baby. Wanted to fuck that ass for a long time.”

Cas laughed. “Oh, Dean, I think you have misconstrued what’s going to happen here.” He stepped close and used his powers to rearranged matter until Dean was on all fours and bound by the hands, feet tied to opposite ends of the room.

He leaned down to Dean’s ear, ignoring his shocked face. “There is no universe in which I would let a demon fuck me, not even one that bears your face.” He took said face in his hand. “However, I fully intend to sate my desires on _your_ ass—”

“Cas? Hey, Earth to Cas?” Sam said, snapping his fingers in front of the angel’s face.

“What?” Cas blinked, clearing his mind of the fantasy.

Dean was slumped over in the chair, still tied as he had been when Cas’s mind had wandered into the fantasy.

“I said the cure is done.” Sam looked at him strangely and cleared his throat. “Uh, if you don’t mind staying with him, I’m gonna go take a nap. I’m beat.”

“I don’t mind,” Cas said, still lost back in his head.

“Cool, thanks. Come get me if he wakes up, okay?” Sam patted him on the shoulder and then he was gone.

Cas walked over to where Dean was sitting. He slid a hand over Dean’s sweaty brow and up into his hair. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Dean. Marked or not,” he whispered.

Dean shifted in his sleep and mumbled, “Luhyutucaz....”

Cas allowed himself a smile. Perhaps there was hope yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ich liebe dich. Tell me things. ♥


	5. Spin the Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie devises a plan for game night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe this one is a little more fluffy and cheesy than yesterday. Bon appetit.

  
Dean should have never let Charlie talk him into throwing a party in their dorm room. He’d been drinking at the time, which she had known and taken full advantage of.

“Hey, so, I was thinking it would be awesome to have some people over for a drinking and retro game night.”

Dean, who had been on his fifth beer at the time, had said, “Hell yeah! Great idea, man!”

“But, Dean, you have to agree to my rules when we play, okay? I’ve got my eye on that girl Gilda from my Women’s Studies class.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Because! I need you to cooperate because I don’t think she’s out yet. People just automatically look to you for guidance. If you’re cool with the rules, everyone else will have to be too.”

Dean’s ego enjoyed the stroking enough that he had agreed, and now here he was. Playing Spin the Bottle in his dorm like a middle schooler, with Cas—the guy he’d been fighting a gay crush on for weeks now—sitting right next to him.

And Charlie had been serious about making him go along with her rules. She’d reminded him of his promise right before everyone started showing up. When she’d gotten up to announce the rules, she’d given him a meaningful look. He had rolled his eyes and nodded, waving her off to let her know he remembered what he’d promised.

Then she spoke and the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

“Okay, so we’re going to work clockwise. You have to kiss whoever the mouth of the bottle points to, even if they aren’t your gender preference. This is college. It’s about experimenting, right?”

“Charlie,” Kevin complained. “We all know you’re a lesbian. Isn’t this a trick to kiss the girls?”

“No! If it lands on a guy, I have to kiss him too. And Dean’s straight and he’s cool with this, right Dean?”

Dean’s whole body turned to ice, but the pleading look Charlie gave him meant he couldn’t let her down now. She was his one of his best friends. He coughed to buy some time.

“Um, yeah.” He shrugged. “Just a peck on the lips, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

 _You could realize that you like it_ , a traitorous inner voice informed him.

“Actually,” Cas cut in. “I believe it is more in the spirit of the game and the nature of experimentation to use tongue.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before turning back to Charlie for confirmation.

“Well, yeah, I mean, I gotta agree with Cas on this one. And the kisses have to last at least six seconds.”

She threw Dean an apologetic look that didn’t help him a single bit. His heart still thundered in his chest like a wild thing. Before he knew it, Anna was taking the first turn and putting her hand on the bottle.

For a while, however, it seemed that the universe was working in Dean’s favor. The first three people—including Charlie—got a person of the opposite gender. Anna had to kiss Kevin, Charlie had to kiss Ash, and Benny had to kiss Jo. Dean was next up and he was feeling pretty confident. He’d willingly kiss almost any girl here—although kissing Charlie might be a little squicky, if he was honest. Charlie apparently had the same thought.

“One more rule. I can’t kiss Dean. He’s like... my brother. That would just be gross. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken. You’re right. It would be gross.” She protested and he rolled his eyes. “Can I spin the damn bottle already?”

He put his hand on it and spun, watching with trepidation as it slowed to a stop... right in front of Charlie.

Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes.

“Spin again, Winchester,” someone said, but Dean wasn’t even sure who.

He put his hand on the bottle again and for some reason, he could feel Cas’s eyes on him now. They were practically burning a hole in the side of his face. When Dean glanced over, Cas hurriedly looked away. Dean flicked his wrist and the bottle started to spin.

He had spun it much harder this time and it went around several times. Even once it started to slow it made another full rotation. Then one more. On the third rotation, Dean watched as it started turning toward Benny, felt momentary relief as it moved on to himself—and then stopped breathing when the bottle came to rest with the mouth pointed right at Cas.

He whipped his terrified gaze to Cas, only to find him smirking.

“Show me what you got, Winchester.”

He looked over to glare at Charlie, but she wasn’t looking at him. In fact, instead of the apologetic look he’d expected, he noticed she looked smug. He was going to kill her. This wasn’t about Gilda at all.

His anger gave him confidence. He gave Cas his best cocky grin.

“Hope you can handle it, Novak. I’ve melted panties tighter than yours before.”

So saying, he leaned forward, putting a hand behind Cas’s head to draw him in. He spared one last look into those blue eyes and then he closed he gap between them as he closed his eyes. As soon as his lips touched those thick pale ones of Cas’s, a multitude of thoughts rushed through his head all at once.

_Oh, fuck._   
_Big gay crush level up!_   
_Abort!Abort!Abort!_   
_More, please, more._

Before he even realized he had forgotten to count to six, he was startled out of the best kiss of his life by whistles and catcalls.

“Geez, Dean, I said six seconds, not six minutes,” Charlie teased.

He jumped back abruptly, knowing by the fiery heat of his skin that he was bright red. He glanced at Cas to find him wide-eyed and a little shell-shocked. Dean couldn’t help the half smile that curled his lips up.

“How’re those panties doing, Novak?”

He watched Cas come back to himself in an instant.

“I’m afraid I forgot to wear any. So I guess the question remains unanswered.”

Before he could think better of it or stop himself, Dean said, “Yeah? Well, next time you’re wearing a pair let me know and we’ll put it to the test again.”

Cas looked shocked again, but only for a split second. Then he leaned forward to whisper in Dean’s ear, quietly enough not to be overheard.

“Or I could show you right now what kissing you did to my dick.”

That was all it took.

“Everybody out!” Dean said, jumping up and clapping his hands.

“Dean, what—”

“You too Charlie. Don’t think I don’t know you did this on purpose. Out, out, out!”

Everyone scrambled to get up and head for the door. Then Dean realized Cas was one of the people trying to leave.

“Uh, Cas? Where the fuck you going, man?”

Cas’s eyes went impossibly wide. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Dean. I thought—”

Dean looked at him in confusion. “Cas, dude, I was clearing the room for us.”

Cas continued to stare.

Dean glanced around to make sure everyone else was on their way out the door.

“I believe you said something about showing me your dick.”

“I—oh. Oh.” Cas relaxed and then laughed a little. “I thought I pissed you off and that’s why you told everyone to leave.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “Then when you called me back, I thought you were going to hit me.”

“I was confused, Cas. Not an asshole.” He stepped forward to lift Cas’s chin with his hand.

“And you’re not confused now?”

Dean laughed. “Nah, you kinda cleared that up for me.”

“How?” Cas asked, with a frown that was adorable, even if Dean preferred his smiles.

“By forcing me to realize just how much I wanted to see your dick.”

“Oh.”

Dean closed the distance once more, this time not stopping the kiss for a very long time. By the time they finally called it a night, Dean had done a lot more than see Cas’s dick. He didn’t regret a second. He was almost asleep when a sudden thought struck him.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm?”

“Remind me to send Charlie some flowers.”

Cas chuckled against his chest. “Maybe I’ll send her some myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crappy day was crappy. Send me love? ♥


	6. Sex Pollen AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is cataloging items in the bunker and accidentally sniffs the wrong one. He needs Dean's help in the best way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has come to my attention that i have thus far left you utterly smutless and for that i apologize. for this reason, today’s trope is going to be sex pollen au. this is your final warning.
> 
> //UPDATE: I had to share this comment:  
> "Pfft. "Warning"? More like:  
> *rings dinner bell*  
> "hey bitches, come and get some sex pollen fic, you insatiable deviants!" ;)  
> *watches stampede towards AO3...*"  
> xD//

Dean had been worried when Cas decided to become human, but he had to admit, watching human!Cas try new things was pretty hysterical. He’d crinkle his nose and squint really hard and just generally give the impression that every new thing was potentially distasteful and or dangerous.

Of course, Dean supposed that was a smart way to be and it had certainly served the Winchesters well—it didn’t make Cas any less adorable when he did it.

Dean had accepted that there was a thing between them. Now that Cas was human and there was no more “I’m not worthy of an angel” excuse in his head, it was pretty hard to deny that he felt things he’d never intended to feel for this nerdy dude who used to have wings. Now that Cas lived in the bunker, Dean could also see that he was not alone in having feelings for his best friend. Cas felt things for him too.

Neither of them, of course, stubborn as they both were, were yet willing to discuss it. It was a thing they danced around. Dean was sure Cas knew how he felt. It was probably even more obvious than Cas’s feelings for him were. They didn’t talk about it... and they didn’t do anything about it. _Maybe someday_ , Dean always told himself, when the ache in his chest was so strong he thought his arms might reach out for Cas on their own. _Not today, but maybe someday_.

Usually that was enough to soothe the ache and make him back off. Cas was dealing with so much else right now. Losing his connection to his brothers, walking away from Heaven, becoming human for good—any of those things alone was enough burden for one person. All of them together, well, Dean wasn’t sure how Cas was still standing upright sometimes and not collapsed in the corner crying. Dean was pretty sure that’s where he’d have been.

Still, that didn’t mean that, on days like today especially, he didn’t wish things were just a little different. When Cas was looking through human things and making that cute as hell face, Dean wished he could just lean over and kiss that look right off him. Watch those wrinkles smooth out and those hard lines soften. Watch those squinty eyes go wide with surprise and pleasure.

Of course, letting Cas play in the stores of the bunker was maybe not such a good idea, but it made the guy feel like he was helping. He said it was important to catalog everything and that was true. Plus Sam and Dean had long since grown bored with the task, as much of it as they’d already done with no end in sight.

Well, Dean had, anyway. He was pretty sure Sam was still giant nerd enough to enjoy it. It was easier to excuse Cas. He needed a purpose and this seemed to help fill that void.

“Whatcha got there, Cas?” Dean asked as Cas opened a box full of bottles. He said it mainly to distract himself from that look on Cas’s face.

“I’m not sure. They seem to be ingredients for spells, but they might also be pre-mixed spell agents.” He lifted the stopper off a bottle of sparkly yellow... stuff. “I might still be able to tell by scent alone. I have retained some of my angel skills. Perhaps that’s one of them.”

Dean considered telling Cas this was a bad idea, as he lifted the bottle to his nose and sniffed. However, the look on Cas’s face when he realized that he could, in fact, identify things by smell was too good to want to stop.

“Unicorn tears,” he said with a smile.

“Uh, those are real?”

“They were once. They were killed out with the great flood. I believe humans wrote a song about it.”

“Still weird you knowing pop culture, Cas.”

“Mm,” Cas murmured as he picked up another bottle.

This one had iridescent fluid in it, mostly clear but tinted various shades of blue. Cas sniffed and immediately jerked away, rubbing his nose violently.

“The Men of Letters were perverts and deviants,” Cas spat angrily. “Either that or they had a sick sense of humor.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the words or Cas’s face. “What the hell was that, man?”

Cas glared, at Dean first, then the bottle. “Fairy semen.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he felt his face go slack in shock. “Wow, buddy, you weren’t kidding. That’s fucked up. Looks like Grandpa Henry had some issues, huh? Hey, are you sure you should—”

Cas sniffed another bottle before Dean could finish. This one was filled with dull purple gray sand-looking stuff. Cas only looked confused when he pulled away.

“I don’t know what that is. I’ve never come in contact with it before.” He sniffed it again. “It has a scent, but it’s faint.” He sniffed a third time. “I don’t know what it could—oh. _Ohhh_. Oh, no.” He looked at Dean with terrified eyes and Dean felt his heart stop.

“Cas? Cas, what is it man, you’re scaring me!”

He started to walk to Cas, but he need not have bothered. Cas was coming to him in a hurry. To Dean’s shock, Cas got right into his space—the way he hadn’t done since the Apocalypse—and took a deep inhale near Dean’s neck.

“ _Deeeaaaan_ ,” he groaned.

“Cas?” Dean didn’t like the timid sound of his voice, but having Cas this close and... _scenting_ him... it was making him feel things he wasn’t quite ready for yet.

“Mmm, Dean. Help me, please,” Cas whispered, stepping even closer.

“Cas, I don’t—”

Cas cut off Dean’s words—and thought processes—when he stepped against Dean close enough to roll his hips and allow Dean to feel Cas’s rather substantial erection against Dean’s own hip.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas said, a broken plea. “Help me.”

Dean’s mind and body were at war, with his emotions refusing to pick a side and fighting everyone.

“Cas, this isn’t you. It’s got to be that stuff, whatever you found in that jar.”

Cas pulled him closer and made Dean look him in the eyes. “Dean,” he growled. “I never wanted the first time to be like this.”

He closed his eyes and whined, then ground his hips forward again, evidently feeling another wave of... _what? Sex magic?_ Dean wondered.

“Not like this, but I wanted it,” Cas said, opening his eyes so that Dean could read the truth there. “Wanted it so long, Dean. And now... I need it. Please.”

“Cas—”

Blue eyes looked at him with a sudden depth of sadness Dean didn’t like at all.

“You don’t want it? I thought....” Cas shook his head and forced himself away, even though it was clearly physically painful to do so.

Dean reached out, grabbing him by the bicep and hauling him back so they stood flush.

“Never said that, angel.” He searched Cas’s face. “Just need to be sure this isn’t _just_ because of that bottle.”

Slowly Cas shook his head. “No. I want this. I’d have preferred a different way, but I will take this route over never getting there at all.”

In that moment, Cas’s emotions were not hidden beneath a facade as they’d so often been in the past. Everything he felt was laid bare on his face. Dean was suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer unadulterated love he saw in that familiar face. Love he probably didn’t deserve and never could.

Lucifer himself couldn’t have stopped Dean from finally, _finally_ pressing their lips together. From sliding his tongue inside that mouth and claiming what he’d wanted for so long.

“God, you taste even better than I expected,” Dean whispered against Cas’s jaw.

“Dean, I swear to you, another time we will take it slow. We will make time for romance and sweetness and showing you all the love you deserve.” Cas pulled away and stripped off his shirt. “Today we don’t have time for that. I need you naked.” He raised an eyebrow when Dean didn’t immediately start removing his clothes. “ _Now_.”

Dean scrambled to get his boots and socks off so that he could take off everything else. Cas was taking his own clothes off more gracefully, but with no less haste. As Cas slid his pants down, Dean took one single moment to savor the full view of that glorious chest that he’d never gotten to see more than glimpses of before. Then Cas was on him, fumbling at Dean’s fly and mauling his mouth again.

“Wait!” Dean gasped. “Wait, we need lube.”

Cas pulled away and came back with the blue swirly bottle.

Dean gave him a death glare. “That’s fairy jizz, Cas.”

“It had lubricating prop—”

“ _No._ ”

Cas sighed, put upon. “Fine.” He picked up his phone out of his recently discarded pants and started typing.

“What are you doing?”

“I texted Sam and asked him to bring me the lube from my room.”

“Dude, _what? You can’t just call my brother up here to bring us lube, man!_ ” Dean was on the verge of a panic attack at the very idea.

“I didn’t. I asked him to bring the box that’s next to my bed. He doesn’t know what’s in it and he has no need to know you are here at all.” Cas’s phone chimed and he checked it. “He says he’ll bring it right up.” Cas tilted his head. “You should grab your clothes and hide.”

Dean spluttered, but no actual words would come out. Cas calmly put his pants and shirt back on. For someone all hopped up on sex mojo, he seemed pretty damned in control of himself. If Dean couldn’t still see the raging erection he was sporting, he might have suspected foul play. Dean grabbed his clothes and took himself off behind a shelf.

A knock sounded and Dean heard the door open.

“Hey, here it is, Cas. Everything okay?”

“Yes, I just needed some things in here for research.”

“Oh, okay. You need any help?”

“No, Sam, thank you. I think this is all I need.”

“All right. Hey, have you seen Dean? I thought he was with you.”

“No.”

There was a pause.

“Are you barefoot?”

“Yes. It helps me relax.”

_Wow, Cas is getting really good at lying._

“Uh-huh. Say,” Sam asked in a deceptively innocent voice that Dean knew meant trouble. “Do you always wear three socks?”

“I—one of my feet is smaller than the other. It helps my shoes fit better.”

_Damn, Cas, you’re a real Winchester now._

“Oh, that makes sense.” Dean thought they were off the hook, but Sam wasn’t finished with them yet. “Well, I’m gonna go now. Later, Cas. Bye, Dean!” he called out as a parting shot. Dean could hear him laughing as he walked down the hall.

Dean walked out, prepared to lay into Cas about letting his brother know what they were doing, but he was brought up short by the sight of Cas taking off his pants a second time. The shirt was already gone. As Cas caught sight of him he pulled down the boxers he was wearing too, giving Dean a perfect view of his perfect ass.

“Fuck,” was all Dean could think to say.

“Let’s,” Cas, the snarky bastard, replied.

Cas yanked the lid off the box and Dean caught a peek of brightly colored plastic before Cas pulled out the lube and covered the box again.

“Cas were those sex toys?” Dean asked a little breathlessly.

Cas smiled. “As I said. Another time, I promise. Right now, Please kneel on that ottoman and lean over onto the sofa with your hands.”

Dean didn’t even put up a token protest about wanting to top. He’d been dreaming of this moment for too long. If he were honest, ever since that alley where Cas had roughed him up for planning to say yes to Michael. He climbed up on the furniture as requested and felt a thrill go through him that this was finally happening.

“I’m sorry this has to be so lacking in tenderness,” Cas said as he approached Dean’s ass. “In the future, I will take the time to taste every inch of you, open you up properly with my tongue before I ever use my fingers.”

He rubbed his naked cock against Dean’s between his legs and Dean moaned.

“As you can see, however, right now I don’t have that kind of time. I know I’m not showing it, but this is actually quite painful. It’s taking all my will to hold myself in check.”

 _Why is that so hot_?

“It’s okay, Cas. Just try to be a little gentle, okay? It’s been a long, long time since I did this.”

“You’ve had sex with a man before?” Cas asked with genuine surprise.

He opened the lube with a soft click and Dean turned his head trying to watch him coat his fingers. For some reason, he liked that part.

“Uh, no, not like this, but I let girls, um... I let girls.”

“Oh.” Cas slid a wet finger across his hole, not pressing in, just lightly massaging. “What have you done with men, Dean?”

“Mm,” Dean hummed in pleasure. “I, um, blow jobs? And, uh, one guy let me.”

“Let you fuck him?” Cas said in Dean’s ear, pressing his chest against Dean’s back.

The swear on the former angel’s tongue was almost more than Dean could take. Which of them had had the sex mojo again? Dean didn’t remember being this hard _ever_.

“Y-yeah.”

A finger slowly breached him and Dean whined.

“That’s what I’m going to do to you, Dean. I’m going to fuck you. Perhaps later, we will get to make love, but right now, I am going to fuck you.” He leaned back, drawing a hand down Dean’s back as the finger of the other hand worked in and out. “Are you going to like being fucked, Dean? I’d like for you to say it.”

Dean didn’t even hesitate. “Fuck me, Cas. I want you to fuck me.” As Cas slipped in finger number two, he moaned, “ _Please_.”

It didn’t take long until Dean was quivering and shaking and already feeling fucked out. Cas had worked up to four fingers—that cock of his was huge—before he finally deemed Dean ready.

Dean did his best not to tense up when he felt the hot, leaking head of Cas’s cock against his lube-slick hole. Cas massaged his back gently.

“Are you ready, Dean?”

“Fuck me, Cas.”

And then it was happening. Cas was slipping his massive cock into Dean at long, long last. This was nothing like with the women and their slim plastic strap-ons. Cas was thick and hot and oh-so-very perfect. Dean felt completed in a way he didn’t know he could feel. Full and connected and on fire.

He wanted to cry when Cas started pulling out, even though he was dimly aware that the movement was necessary for them to continue. Then Cas came forward again, thrusting hard against just the right spot and Dean’s vision grayed at the edges and he arched his back, as pleasure spiked through him in that singular way.

“Oh, fuck, yeah, Cas!”

Those graceful fingers grasped at his hips and used them for leverage to pump that huge cock in and out of him. Dean had never felt like this. Cas, for all his inexperience, knew just how to fuck and Dean was benefiting from that knowledge in spades.

Dean couldn’t help reaching up to stroke himself. Cas knocked Dean’s hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. The knowledge that Cas was inside him, that Cas was touching him, that was enough to have him spiraling and unraveling with just a few short thrusts into Cas’s fist. He came hard, screaming. He gave a passing thought to the ruined upholstery, but couldn’t be roused to care.

Cas, it seemed, was nowhere near as close as Dean had been. Dean suspected that was the magic at work.

_Fucking fairy semen, magic Viagra—the Men of Letters were some fucked up dudes._

Cas didn’t slow his thrusts or speed them up, but he kept changing the angle, as though he needed to feel Dean from every possible direction. Dean was still enjoying the sensations, though he knew he was going to be sore tomorrow. Even as he had the thought, he felt Cas applying more lube to ease the slide.

“I’m sorry, Dean. The magic is prolonging my stamina and making my orgasm somewhat elusive.” His hips did not slow as he talked.

“It’s okay, Cas. What do you need from me?”

“Perhaps if I lay on my back with you on top of me? My legs are about to betray me. I tried to conserve energy by not retrieving the lube myself, but obviously it wasn’t enough.”

Dean laughed. “You’re lazy now that you’re human, you know that?”

Cas glared at him and his dick twitched in a valiant effort to rise again.

“Lie back on the couch, Cas.”

Cas did so and Dean climbed up, straddling his waist. He held Cas’s gaze as he took his cock in hand and slowly slid back onto it. It felt different from this direction. Dean had never tried sex like this before. It opened and stretched him and stimulated his nerves in new ways. He liked it, he found.

“Feel so good, Cas,” he moaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as he began to rock up and down.

“Dean,” Cas pleaded.

For what, Dean wasn’t sure.

Dean continued to ride Cas, finding an angle that rubbed his prostate and after a very short time, his own cock was back in the game. He was a little surprised, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Look what you do to me, Cas,” he said as he took himself in hand once again.

Cas stared at the sight in wonder and Dean thought maybe he was finally getting close. This was confirmed when Cas grabbed onto his hips and started bucking up into Dean.

“Yes, Dean, make yourself come for me. Come on my chest. Please.”

Dean jacked himself as Cas pounded into him. His orgasm wasn’t as intense as the first one, but it was still plenty strong and he groaned Cas’s name as the first fat white drops started to land on Cas’s skin.

“Dean!” Cas gasped in surprise, staring down at the mess. Then he ground himself into Dean as deeply as he could go and Dean felt Cas pulsing inside him at last.

Dean collapsed forward, grimacing at the squelch of fluids, but anxious to get another taste of Cas’s mouth, now that there was no rush for a finish line. He gingerly slid off of Cas’s length, hissing a little as the head stretched him a little as it drew away from his rim.

“We should shower,” Cas said, making no move to get up or even open his eyes.

“Shower, for sure. Then we can nap together in my room. How does that sound?”

When Cas opened his eyes, those blue orbs radiated happiness. “I’d like that very much, Dean.”

As they got up and gathered their clothes, preparing to leave for the showers, Dean said, “Hey Cas? You, um... you know I love you, right?”

Dean couldn’t look at him, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “I know, Dean.”

Dean was a little disappointed not to hear it back, but he grabbed his socks without another word. When he stood back straight, he was surprised to feel Cas pressed up against him.

“And I love you too, Dean.”

Dean didn’t even stop smiling when they accidentally traumatized Sammy on their naked sojourn to the showers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have i appeased the smut-needy now? tell me all the stuff ♥


	7. Matching Soulmate Markings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There... was a dildo with wings carrying a large book and Gumby, running really fast."
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Rowena casts a spell, making everyone develop soulmate markings. Dean is not amused.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing a lot more canon in these drabbles than I normally do. Hope you're all okay with that.

Dean scratched his wrist absently as he pored over yet another tome of lore on soul mates.

“Fucking Rowena,” he muttered.

“Found a few more,” Sam said, bringing yet another stack and dropping it onto the table with a loud thunk.

“I mean what’s the point of a-a-a soul mate’s curse for the whole world?” Dean asked, trying his best not to scratch.

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s not a curse, Dean. She just cast a spell so all our soul mate markings would be visible.” Sam sighed and sat down, heaving another giant book over in front of him.

“Damn, that book looks big even in front of you,” Dean said with a small smile.

Sam huffed a laugh. “Yeah.” He sobered. “Do we really need to find a cure? I mean, would having a soul mate be such a terrible thing?”

“Seriously, Sam? You wanna bring some woman into this life? Because I sure don’t. Find out I have a soul mate only to see her destroyed the next time we break the world? No thanks.”

“No, but....” Sam sighed again. Then he got a determined look on his face that Dean didn’t care for. “And anyway, who is to say that yours is a woman? Or mine for that matter?”

Dean’s heart started hammering against his chest like a caged bird. “What?”

Sam’s gaze bored into him. “Look, Dean, we’ve been through too much, all right? I’m tired of walking around this.” He took a deep breath. “I’m pansexual. You’re bisexual. I don’t care what you are and I assume you don’t care what I am. Can we stop pretending now? Don’t we have enough bullshit to deal with as it is?”

Dean was about to decide whether to freak out or just agree with him when there was a knock at the bunker door. Sam got up to get it and Dean stared down at his wrist. There were two symbols there, one that looked like a dildo with wings carrying a giant book and a second on that looked like Gumby running really fast.

He wondered for a second whether he’d be able to settle down with a man any more easily than with a woman. He allowed himself to picture it for a moment, then shook his head. Regardless of gender or genitalia, the problem was the same. Dragging some poor soul down into their stupid, awful life. Wasn’t happening.

“Hello, Dean.”

 _Fuck, how does that voice still go straight to my crotch? Or gaily to my crotch, I suppose is more accurate_ , Dean thought.

“Hey, Cas. How’s it hanging?” _Show me_.

Cas scratched at his shoulder. “Not well. Rowena’s soul mate spell is wreaking havoc everywhere and I’m afraid even I have been affected.” He shook his head as he walked down the steps and slid his trench coat off his shoulders. “I don’t even understand why I would have a mark. I don’t even have a soul.”

“Yeah, ‘s pretty weird,” Dean agreed, trying not to wonder what it would be like if Cas rolled up his sleeves or unbuttoned his collar.

“I wish I knew what the symbols meant. We’ve been poring over these books, but no luck so far,” Sam said, returning to the table.

Cas frowned and looked between them. “You don’t know what the symbols are?” He rolled his eyes in obvious exasperation. “You’d think you two had been dealing with angels long enough you’d recognize Enochian when you saw it.”

“Seriously?” Dean whined. “Son of a bitch. All right,” he said, yanking up his sleeve to expose his wrist. “So what does this mean in Enochian?”

He expected Cas to just tell him what his letters meant, but instead, Cas looked like a human who had seen a ghost for the first time. Cas stepped closer and reached out with a shaking hand to gently trace over Dean’s symbols with his finger. He looked at Dean with wide, terrified eyes.

“Cas? You okay?” Sam asked.

“Th-those are the letters C and D,” he said.

Dean frowned. “Okay. But what’s got you so spooked?”

Dean recalled his earlier wish, as Cas started unbuttoning his shirt. He made eye contact with Dean again and Dean couldn’t read the look he was given. Then Cas pushed down his collar and sleeve, exposing his shoulder, and Dean found there was no longer any oxygen in the building.

“Oh, shit!” Sam said helpfully.

“That’s—you—we—oh, _fuck_ ,” Dean, ever the public speaker, said in response.

There, on Cas’s shoulder, were a dildo with wings carrying a large book and Gumby, running really fast.

Suddenly, though, all of Dean’s normal excuses and bullshit deserted him. He realized that he no longer had to deny what he felt. That mark meant it was okay. That mark meant he and Cas were destiny. Weren’t he and Sam always getting shit for fucking with destiny? Surely that meant he could now reset the balance by accepting his fate for once... right?

He gave Cas his best flirty grin, though he knew it wobbled around the edges. “I think you drew the short straw here, Cas.” Then he winked, and pretended he couldn’t tell his eyes were wet. “Me, though, I hit the jackpot.”

Cas looked at him as if he’d grown a second and then a third head. “You... you’re okay with this?”

“It’s fate, Cas,” he said with more bravado than he felt. “Who am I to argue with fate?”

In an instant, Cas was across the room and Dean was finally finding out what that angel’s mouth tasted like. He was so lost in how amazing it was that he forgot his brother was in the room until a sound broke the moment.

“About fucking time,” Sam muttered. “Try not to get any fluids on the books, huh?”

Dean pulled back long enough to see Sam walking towards the bedrooms. Then he grinned at Cas and pulled him back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whisper sweet nothings in my comments ♥  
> (and if you have a couple bucks, buy a copy of one of [my](http://smile.amazon.com/The-Story-Dylan-Jamie-Dean-ebook/dp/B00VN2TFUU/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top?ie=UTF8) [books](http://amzn.to/1MQZlLU), if you haven't already?)


	8. Clothes Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's accident is Dean's big chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry*

“Here, you can put these on,” Dean said, digging some sweats and a T-shirt out of his dresser.

“Cas, man, I’m _really_ sorry,” Sam said again as he followed them into the bedroom.

Cas glared. “So you’ve said.”

“I just didn’t know—”

“Didn’t know that a glass bottle of ink could break and permanently stain things if you threw it?” His eyes narrowed. “If only someone had been around to warn you of that possible outcome the _first_ time you threw it.”

Dean hoped the sarcasm dripping from his voice wouldn’t ruin his carpet.

“Come on, Cas, you better get out of those before they stain your skin too,” Dean said, hoping to keep World War III at bay a bit longer.

“I didn’t know it would splatter so much,” Sam muttered at he left the room.

Cas huffed angrily and started stripping off his shirt. Dean averted his eyes, fully intending to remain in almost-full denial about his growing attraction for his best friend. Then Cas swore and Dean’s gaze shot toward him reflexively—right before Dean burst out laughing.

“D-d-duuuude!” he gasped out, clutching his stomach. “Y-you-you’re... you’re a _Smurf_!” he finally managed, barely able to breathe with laughter.

“ _Out_!” Cas shouted, shoving Dean out the door.

On an ordinary day, he probably couldn’t have done it, but Dean was laughing too hard to defend himself. He was a little disappointed he would get another peek of Cas without his shirt, but he shoved that down in its box where it belonged.

Dean made his way to the living room, still shaking with amusement. He clapped Sam on the shoulder on his way to the couch.

“Damn, man, you got Cas _good_. He’s-he’s—”

It was no good. The idea of the not-quite-solid-blue state of Cas’s chest was just too much to handle. Tears were streaming from his eyes as he fell back on the couch, hugging himself from the pain of the cramps in his stomach. He knew he was hysterical, but he couldn’t seem to calm down. He didn’t realize how long he’d been laughing, until he heard Cas’s voice.

“So glad my disfigurement amuses you,” Cas said, stepping into view.

All at once, Dean’s laughter seemed to dry up. Not because Cas was giving him a death glare. Not because he felt bad that Cas’s skin had change colors temporarily. No, he sobered up in an instant because in an instant, he realized denial wasn’t an option anymore.

Cas stood in front of him, dressed in Dean’s shirt and Dean’s pants. The shirt was a bit too wide in the shoulders and the pants were a little too long, so Cas was stepping on them with his heels. He looked adorable and grumpy and perfect and Dean waved goodbye to his peace of mind.

Cas, the observant little shit, noticed the change in Dean right away. He dropped his head to one side and stared at Dean carefully.

“What?” Dean snapped defensively.

Cas’s eyes widened and he smirked. “I just figured out why you were giving me that possessive look.”

“I wasn’t—That’s not even—just shut up, dude, whatever,” Dean huffed, straightening up and refusing to look at Cas.

“I’m just gonna....” Sam said before slipping out of the room.

“Dean... do you like it that I’m wearing your clothes?”

“What? No, that’s—”

“ _Dean_.”

“Yeah, okay? Yes,” he admitted in a huff, looking at Cas defiantly.

To his amazement, Cas smiled sweetly. “Good. I like wearing them. Maybe next time it can be after we’ve been naked together.” Then his smirk returned. “Instead of because your brother just blue me.”

“Oh, my God, Cas!” Sam yelled from the hallway where he’d been eavesdropping.

Dean and Cas both laughed. Then Cas straddled Dean on the couch and pressed Dean backward. One more breath and they were kissing.

After several wonderful minutes, Cas pulled back and grinned at Dean, leaning their foreheads together.

“Tell me, Dean. You’re fairly kinky. Ever wanted to have sex with a Smurf?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *not sorry. xD Speak to me! (Or leave me pictures of Misha or other SPN cast members, whichever suits your social interaction comfort level.) ♥


	9. Elevator Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's having an extremely hard day. Then Cas arrives and it gets even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's totally a bad pun.  
> All right, my dirty little smut bunnies, here is some more of the dirty-dirty to appease your perversions. Hope you like it.

Dean was so ready for this day to be over, it just wasn’t funny.

The day started with Dean being unable to locate a single clean white T-shirt or decent pair of underwear—despite knowing full well he had just done laundry the day before. He’d made do with a so-called “wife-beater” tank—which was a Godawful name, no matter that he understood the origins—and the sole pair of underwear he could find, but he wasn’t pleased. Evidently Sam had decided the prank war Dean thought ended two weeks ago was still in full swing.

Once he got to the office, Crowley had called him in to tear him a new one—which Dean suspected was due more to Dean’s spurning the man’s advances than any actual work failure on his part, but he would be hard pressed to prove it.

The rest of the day had been one cluster fuck after another, including having to wait until five-thirty—a full six hours after he should have eaten and an hour after he should have been able to leave for the day—to have his lunch and culminating in almost spilling that lunch on himself. Instead of his lunch, he’d somehow managed to upend half a bottle of correction fluid all over himself.

Thankfully, it had only gotten his shirt and not the pants of his second best suit. The shirt had to come off, but he figured there wouldn’t be too many people in the building at that point, anyway. He only had a short walk to the elevator, a quick ride down a few floors and then a few more yards out. Surely he could walk around in the see-through tank top for that long? He abandoned his lunch, opting to just eat at home.

As he stepped onto the elevator, he sighed, grateful to the end of his long work day. He let his shoulders relax at last and promised himself tomorrow would be better. Plotting revenge on Sam would have to wait, though. Tonight he was just too tired.

He got a little anxious when the car paused a couple of floors after his, but the way the guy getting on smiled sheepishly after his gaze roamed over Dean’s chest appreciatively instead of smirking or otherwise making Dean feel like a piece of meat, meant he kept his cool.

The dark-haired man stepped on, saw the lobby button was already depressed and settled over on the far side of the elevator like a decent human being. They exchanged shy smiles and both stared at the number read out high up on the wall as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

What made Dean _lose_ his cool a few seconds later was the elevator car suddenly coming to a screeching—literally—halt. Almost immediately, the tiny room was plunged into absolute darkness. Dean could hear a little gasp from the other man, but it was almost lost over the pounding of Dean’s own heart.

Before Dean could completely panic, however, a dim light filled the space again. It was yellow and sort of sickly, but it wasn’t utter blackness, and Dean would take it.

“I suppose we should try the call button?” the guy asked.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He tried for a small laugh that he hoped didn’t sound as terrified as he felt. “That’s what they do in the movies, right?”

The other man huffed in an amused way, reaching a long, slender finger out toward the button marked “Call.”

“This is Garth at the front desk. Is this car four?”

“Um, I have no idea. We’re stuck in an elevator somewhere below the eight floor, that’s all I know.”

“All righty. Well, how many of you are there?”

“Two of us.”

“Okay, well here’s the bad news. There was some kind of problem with the construction next door and they drilled into our space, taking out our backup generator. The emergency lights are on a different generator, so they’re working, but that’s all we got. Plus, since they blew a transformer putting too much juice on the drill in the first place, we’ve got a full external power outage.”

“And the good news?” Dean asked.

“Not done with the bad news yet.” When no one said anything else, Garth continued. “Now the problem with the power outage being external is that it triggered our anti-terrorism failsafes on the elevators. That means that under no circumstances will those doors open until either the generator is restored or full power is.”

“ _What_?” Dean squawked. “How the hell is that possible? Don’t you yahoos have, like, jaws of life or some shit for this?”

“Won’t work. Like I said, failsafes. Keeps the terrorists from riding to the top of the building and keeps some people safe from their onslaught.”

“Because an insurance company is such a high priority for terrorism,” the brunet man said drily.

“Exactly!” Garth said, completely missing the sarcasm. “Glad you boys understand. Now, the generator won’t be here for a week, and that’s the last of the bad news. The good news is, the power company says they can have the transformer repaired in just under four hours. So just hang tight and we’ll get you out in no time.”

Before either of them could protest, Garth came back on the intercom.

“Oh, and I’m going off shift in a few minutes, but I’m sure Rufus will take good care of you. He swears a lot, but you get used to it. Talk to ya later!”

“Fuck!” Dean said, putting all his frustration with the day into the single word.

“Agreed. I’m, uh, Castiel, by the way. Or Cas.”

Cas reached out a hand and Dean shook it with a small, pained smile.

“I’m Dean. It’s nice to meet you, just, you know, maybe other circumstances would have been better, you know?”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the case.” Cas gestured at Dean, taking in the balled up shirt under his arm, as well as the state of his undershirt, which was untucked and had a few large splatters of white on it. “Looks like you weren’t having the best day already.”

“Ha! You don’t know the half of it, man. Thanks for noticing, though.”

Cas muttered something under his breath that might have been “a little hard not to notice you” or might have been football scores, but Dean chose to believe the former. Then Cas cleared his throat.

“Of course. Well, I’m sorry this is making your day worse and keeping you from your family.”

“Oh, I don’t... Um, my brother is living with me right now, but I’m not, like, married or anything.”

“Oh. Well, still. I’m sure your girlfriend will be upset.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. He knew a fishing expedition when he heard it. He decided to nibble at the bait and tug the line, but not get hooked quite yet.

“Mm,” was all he said. “How about you? Family waiting dinner on you?”

His stomach, apparently hearing the word dinner, chose that moment to growl loudly.

“Sorry. Skipped lunch today.”

“Oh!” Cas said, immediately dropping to his knees to open his briefcase. “Here. I know it’s not dinner, but hopefully it will help a little.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide as Cas pulled out a banana, a bag of beef jerky and a candy bar and handed them over, taking a bag of peanuts and a granola bar for himself.

“You aren’t allergic to peanuts, are you?” Cas asked, gesturing at the Snickers in Dean’s hand.

“No, but... why do you keep all this stuff? You get stuck in elevators often?”

Dean didn’t wait for an answer before peeling and eating a bite of the banana. He offered some to Cas, but he declined.

“Oh, uh, no. My brother is hypoglycemic. If he goes too long without eating and his blood sugar drops, he gets extreme mood swings. I prefer to avoid them by keeping food on hand.”

“Mm, well, that’s lucky for me, I guess,” Dean told him with a smile before he finished off the banana.

“Yes. Me too, as it happens. I took an early lunch and just had a salad.” He cleared his throat. “And to answer your question, no, I have neither partner nor spouse waiting home on me.” He glanced at Dean in a way that could be interpreted as meaningful, but hurriedly glanced away.

Because of the non-gendered words Cas chose, Dean decided to bite, after all. Hot unattached guy who had checked him out? Yes, he could do with some of that in his life, even if flirting in the elevator for a little while was as far as it led.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend waiting home on me, either.”

“Oh, that’s... oh.” Cas’s eyes went slightly wide and then they crinkled as he smiled.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Cas dug into his case once more and offered Dean a bottle of water, taking another for himself. A sudden crackle alerted them to the intercom again, but they were not being addressed.

“Dammit, boy, don’t press that fucking button! Garth, goddammit, if you do that, it’s gonna cut off communica—”

There was a horrible popping sound, a little bit of feedback, an ominous hiss and then utter silence.

Dean sighed and finished the last bite of his candy bar, just as Cas ate the rest of his granola. They gathered the trash and put it into Cas’s briefcase, since it was already open.

The air conditioner had been off for long enough that Dean was starting to be thankful for his lack of shirt. He noticed Cas was starting to develop a sheen of sweat on his face. No surprise, then, when Cas closed his case and slid off his jacket. They had both made their way to the floor while eating, but they were maintaining separate sides of the elevator for now.

Dean tried not to stare as Cas loosened his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, but when Cas noticed and held Dean’s gaze, Dean figured that was like permission. He watched graceful hands work buttons and then Cas was wearing only a thin T-shirt.

“Damn,” Dean said before he could stop himself.

Cas was ripped in the arms and chest and back departments. His belly was smooth and flat and Dean swallowed as his mouth watered.

“Likewise,” Cas said with a smirk and a lingering look at Dean’s own torso.

Dean decided to take a chance.

“You know we’ve got this elevator to ourselves for at least a few more hours....”

Cas cocked an eyebrow. “And just what do you propose we do with our time?” he asked huskily, scooting closer to Dean.

“Long make-out session followed by fast and dirty hand jobs?” Dean asked hopefully.

Cas was in his space in an instant. “Sounds perfect.”

The next sound was a soft sigh from Dean as Cas gave him a couple pecks on the lips. The third time their lips came together, they both parted them naturally, sliding their tongues out to play with each other. Hands began to roam and eventually shirts came off, but it all seemed like background noise. The kiss had Dean’s total focus for a long time.

Until, that was, there were hands at his zipper. He hastily jerked away.

“Um.” He swallowed hard, heart pounding for multiple reasons and eyes wide. “My brother, he—”

“Not really the time to think about family, is it?” Cas chastised, trying to kiss Dean again.

“No, it’s just, um, he pulled a prank which is why the wife-beater and my underwear is, um....” Dean gulped and his throat clicked, all moisture having left his mouth. Dean fell silent, not having the words to continue.

Cas raised that one eyebrow again and resumed working open Dean’s pants. He gasped and his blue eyes dilated almost black as soon as he saw what was underneath.

“Green is my favorite color, did you know that?” he asked, reached down the front of Dean’s pants to cup his erection through the green satin panties.

They made quick work of their pants after that, leaving Cas naked—he hadn’t been wearing any underwear at all—and Dean in his lace-edged boy shorts.

“Turn around, I want a look at that ass in your panties,” Cas commanded, verging on breathless.

Dean turned around and Cas rubbed both his cheeks, squeezing and kneading them in appreciation.

“Too bad you don’t have lube in that briefcase,” Dean whispered.

Cas leaned forward and bit Dean’s ear. “Next time,” he promised, breath hot and wet on Dean’s skin. “Take them off. Slowly.”

Dean slid the underwear off, half an inch at a time, until his entire ass was exposed to Cas’s view. Cas rubbed it again and then let Dean remove the panties completely before turning him around. Cas took both their erections in his hand and started to stroke, in slow, torturous twists of his wrist.

“Fuck,” Dean cried out harshly.

The feeling of Cas’s hot cock against his own, precome dribbling down to slick the way, their sensitive heads brushing against each other, it was all almost too much. When Cas’s other hand came down to cup his balls, that was all it took. Dean didn’t even get to yell a warning before he was coating Cas’s hand in his hot release.

Dean had no time to feel embarrassed by his speed because Cas followed immediately after, with a grunt and a wild look in his eyes. They sealed the deed with a sloppy, toothy kiss and then collapsed onto each other’s shoulders for a moment to catch their breath.

They used Dean’s ruined shirt to clean themselves up and then awkwardly started getting dressed. They pulled up their pants not a moment too soon, it seemed.

“Hello?” came a muffled voice from outside the doors.

“Hey!” Dean called, standing up. “We’re in here!”

“We found a way to override that stupid system, so we’re gonna have you out in a just a few minutes, okay?”

Dean and Cas had no time for post-coital bonding, since almost immediately the doors started to move as the jaws of life were applied. It was slow going, but they both watched silently as the doors were pried apart, millimeter by millimeter. They were stuck only a foot or so below the floor, which was lucky. That meant they’d be able to step up, rather than having to be hauled outside.

Finally, the doors were completely opened. They grabbed their things as they were helped out and checked over by paramedics, just in case. After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, they were at last cleared to leave. Cas was dismissed ahead of him and was already halfway to the stairs.

“Cas! Hey, wait up.”

When he turned, Cas’s face looked sad, though Dean didn’t know why.

“Look, sorry we didn’t get to talk after,” Dean said.

“It’s fine, Dean.”

It clearly wasn’t.

“Well, okay. I mean, if that’s how you want it to be, whambamthanksma’am, you know, I won’t fight you, but, I was kind of thinking maybe we could do that again sometime.”

Cas looked ridiculously hopeful. “Really? I just assumed....”

Dean laughed. “You, me, ass?” He was gratified by the smirk he got. “Anyway, I was thinking... come home with me?”

Cas beamed at him, but then his face fell.

“Won’t your brother mind?”

“Nah. He’s gonna be too happy I’m ending our prank war to care.”

Cas looked confused.

“Yeah, I mean, it landed me in an elevator with you so, I think that means I won,” Dean said, smiling.

“Take me home _now_ ,” Cas said, pulling Dean toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who loves you, baby? ♥


	10. Magic Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two best friends walk into a bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am always careful in my research of cocktails for fics and not just because I like the word cocktails. I hope you enjoy this smutless chapter.

Castiel walked up to the bar forlornly. He’d hoped that spending more time with Dean would either make Dean see him as something more than a friend or help Cas see more of Dean’s faults. Instead, Cas was falling even more hopelessly in love with his best friend and Dean seemed even more determined to prove he was more the type of bisexual who preferred women—and lots of them.

He flagged over the bartender, a lithe brunette with a lower back tattoo for someone named Jesse. She wasn’t the one who’d been serving them, but that was fine with Castiel. The redhead had been far too interested in Dean for Cas’s tastes.

“Hey there, sugar, what can I get for ya?” She motioned toward their table, where Dean still sat, with an upwards nod. “Aside from the love of a fair not-so-maiden,” she said with a knowing wink.

“I—that is—”

“Relax, baby bear, I’m not hear to out you. He obviously can’t see it, but I’m a bartender. I see everything,” she told him, wiping down a glass as she waited for his order. “And I can see you got it bad for that pretty man over there.”

Castiel sighed, tired of pretending. “Yes. I suppose I really do.”

“Well, tell you what, cutiepants, I’m gonna make you boys some special drinks, all right? On the house. And if he’s not yours by the end of the night, I’ll eat my hat!” She grinned as she plunked two glasses on the bar.

“You’re not wearing a hat,” he told her drily.

She laughed and grabbed a cowboy hat from behind her. The band around it said “Pamela.” She dropped it on his head and pulled a couple of bottles from inside a cabinet on the bottle of the bar. The liquid inside both looked strange. One was a thick, dark greenish fluid and the other was a pale, cloudy substance that looked more like smoke than alcohol.

She poured them up into the glasses with some ice, some cherries and a little bit of seltzer water. They both looked much more appetizing that way, Cas had to admit.

“Okay, cupcake, this white one here is yours. The green one, now, that’s for your fella, okay? Do _not_ mix them up.”

Cas frowned at her. “What difference does it make which alcohol we get?”

“Well, honey, like I said, I’m a bartender. I know my shit. If you mix these up, neither one of you is gonna like the results.”

He continued to frown at her as she handed him the drinks, but she just smiled and took the hat back off his head.

“Just in case I have to eat it,” she teased.

Cas shook his head and turned around. The closer he got to the table, the more annoyed he was with her. He should have just ordered them drinks, instead of letting her talk him into whatever these were. Dean was almost certainly going to refuse to drink the vile-looking green one. He considered walking back to the bar, but he was almost back to the table now and Dean was smiling at him.

If anything ever got his feet moving forward, it was that.

“Ooh, is that a [Dusty Rose](http://www.in-the-spirit.co.uk/cocktails/view_cocktail.php?id=364)?” Dean asked, eyes bright with excitement. He grabbed the white drink before Cas could offer him a choice and took a long sip, licking and smacking his lips in appreciation. “And what’s that?” he asked, nodding at the drink Cas was still holding. “[Green Hornet](http://thesweetspotblog.com/green-cocktails-the-green-hornet/)?”

Cas just nodded, having no idea. “The bartender said we’d enjoy them.” He shrugged and downed half his in one swallow.

Dean laughed. “Damn, Cas, you thirsty?” He drank a hearty sip of his own. “Shit, this is good. You know I normally prefer beer or whiskey, but I gotta say, I’m opening up to fruity drinks, man.”

They sipped their drinks a little more sedately and looked around the bar. Cas was starting to feel warm. Whatever was in the cocktail, it was potent. Looking at Dean, he felt such an overwhelming swell of affection, he could barely contain it.

When Dean turned his gaze back to Castiel once more, those lovely green eyes widened slightly.

“Cas, sometimes your eyes are so fucking blue, I can’t stand it. I wanna swim them for days.” Dean looked surprised by the words and stared down into his drink in puzzlement, as if it held the answers.

“I would gladly let you,” Cas said, without intending to. “I would let you do whatever made you happy, Dean. I only want your happiness.”

They stared at each other in shock. Castiel wanted to go and ask Pamela what she had put in their drinks and what might happen if they had, in fact, switched them as she’d warned against, but he didn’t move. He found the idea of walking away from Dean physically painful.

“Sometimes when I touch myself, I’m thinking about you and what your lips would feel like,” Dean said. His facial expression suggested extreme terror. “Mostly, though, when I’ve got a few minutes of down time, I just daydream about what life would be like if you loved me back.” Now Dean looked like he wanted to cry.

“But I do love you back, Dean. I would follow you to the ends of the Earth. I belong to you. I’m your willing—”

“Son of a bitch, boy, what did I tell you about switching the damn drinks?” Pamela walked into view.

“Cas, I get really jealous when other people find you attractive and this woman is making me uncomfortable. Also, I hit on so many women because I know you’re straight and I just wanna get over you, but it never works because you’re just too great.”

Dean was crying now and Castiel wanted to console him, but he was also hyper aware of Pamela’s presence. He forced his gaze away from Dean, though it literally hurt him to do so.

“He grabbed the white drink,” Cas explained. “What’s happening?”

Pamela sighed and drug a chair up to the table. “All right boys, listen up. The white drink was a romantic truth serum. Blue eyes here was supposed to drink that so he’d have the balls to confess his love. The green one is a love potion. Number seven, as it happens. It’s a little dodgy where consent is concerned, but I figured green eyes might get his head out of his ass and realize what a catch you were if he got a little push.”

“But I drank the white one. And I already know what a catch Cas is. He doesn’t have feelings for me, though. He’s straight.”

Cas looked back at Dean, immediately easing the ache that had been forming in his chest. “Dean, what on Earth gave you the impression that I was straight? I identify as bisexual, with a strong preference for men.”

“But I heard Balthazar say how you hated when he had fags with him because he knew you hated fags.”

Castiel couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Dean, Balthazar is British. Fags is their name for cigarettes. If he were using it to mean anything else, he and I would no longer be friends.”

“So you’re not straight?”

Cas shook his head.

“And you really do have feelings for me when you haven’t just drunk a love potion?”

Cas nodded vigorously.

“Is it okay if I kiss your face off now?”

Cas stood quickly and leaned over the table, as Dean did the same. They captured each other’s mouths in a ferocious, partly magic-fueled kiss. Pamela stood, though Cas barely noticed. He did, however, hear what she said as she left.

“I’m just gonna go get the antidotes. You two don’t go anywhere.”

There was nowhere Cas wanted to go, not if Dean wasn’t there.

~@~

Two hours later, cured of the magic and sated in the best way, Cas turned his head toward Dean, where he lay next to Cas on the bed.

“For what it’s worth, I think about you when I touch myself too.”

Dean blushed a bright red. “Dude, shut up.”

Castiel rolled close, so that only a few millimeters separated their lips. “Make me,” he whispered.

Dean did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic spell, love potion, same basic thing, right?   
> Will you tell me you love me? ~~Or do you need a Dusty Rose ala Pamela first?~~ ;) ♥


	11. Seven minutes in heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean pulls Castiel's name from the hat. After 7 minutes, they come out of the closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? I did not forget. Mild smut.

_Oh, shit._

That was all Dean could think when he saw the name on his piece of paper. He tried not to let his voice shake too much when he read it aloud for the others.

“Cas-Castiel,” he stammered, hoping it sounded like he was unfamiliar with the name and not like he’d been harboring a huge crush on the guy for months and was about to be locked in a closet with him.

He looked up and caught giant-sized blue eyes boring into him. Castiel swallowed as if he had something caught in his throat.

“That’s me,” Cas said and Dean was shocked to hear how much deeper his voice had gotten since the last time he’d heard him speak.

“You gonna use your forfeit, Dean?” Garth asked. “You know the rules.”

The rules stated if a player forfeited and refused their turn with the name they drew, the group chose for them and they had to stay a full _fourteen_ minutes. No way Dean would have forfeited—even if he hadn’t been secretly dying to get in there with Cas in the first place.

“No, I’m good. You ready, Castiel?”

Cas nodded and stood. He started walking without waiting to see if Dean followed. They’d set up the game on the far side of Anna’s basement from the closet. That meant no one could hear anything that went on behind the closed door. Dean was grateful for that for a number of reasons.

As soon as he had the door shut behind him, Dean said, “Look, Cas, I’m sorry I haven’t called or anything since—mmmph!”

Castiel used his lips and tongue to shut Dean up. Dean kissed back greedily, too hungry for the remembered taste to fight too hard to explain himself further just now. Then Cas was pulling away, just enough to growl at him.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that again for a month, Dean.” His words were rapid fire and then he went right back to kissing Dean senseless.

Still, Dean had had a moment to collect himself and knew he needed to explain to Cas what had happened, so he put his hands on Cas’s chest and tried to push him away.

“No!” Cas growled. “We’ve only got a few minutes to do this! Talk _later_!”

Dean, just as in need of the touch of Cas’s lips as Cas seemed to be of his, opted to continue kissing. If Cas wasn’t mad, surely the discussion could wait a little while. When those graceful fingers slipped under his waistband and started stroking him over his boxer briefs, though, Dean nearly came right there.

“Whoa!”

Cas froze and looked scared. “Is that not okay?”

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,” Dean explained, hurriedly undoing his jeans as he spoke.

“Good.” Castiel grinned and opened his own jeans, then reached out and slipped his hand inside Dean’s underwear and took Dean’s length in hand.

Dean gasped at the sensation, then reached over to do the same. They continued kissing and stroked each other at a fast and furious pace. Dean wanted to do this sometime when he could savor every second, but tonight was not that time. He was almost over the brink when he heard Charlie yell out a two minute warning.

“ _Dean_!” Cas growled as he got close and that tripped something inside Dean.

“Fuck, Cas, I’m comi—aaaahhhhh!” Dean made an effort to keep his voice down, but it wasn’t easy.

Cas maintained a lot lower volume during his own orgasm, choosing to just pant instead of moan. Or maybe he wasn’t a screamer? No, remembering their previous encounter, Dean knew he definitely was.

“Shit.” Dean looked down and saw they both had come on their shirts.

Cas shrugged and flipped his shirt inside out, giving Dean a cheeky grin.

Dean laughed and did the same and they hurried to do up their pants before time was called. Then he hauled Cas back for one firm, chaste kiss. He slung his arm around Castiel as they strode out of the closet, not waiting for the alert.

“Hey, we didn’t call time yet!” Jo protested.

Dean smirked. “Yeah, but we were finished. Also, I’m bisexual, so everyone should process that shit. I’ll give you a second.”

The entire rest of the group, except Cas, rolled their eyes. Several people added a “Duh!” for good measure.

“I’m grey asexual,” Cas announced.

His coming out was met with much more surprise, but just as much collective shrugging. They had cool friends. Then a squabble broke out over whose turn it was and Dean and Cas had a moment of privacy to speak.

“That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” Dean admitted.

“I was avoiding you too, for a similar reason. I’d come out as asexual just a few months before we met and I didn’t want people giving me shit.”

Dean grinned. “Wanna go out some time?”

“I’m free now,” Cas said, eyes crinkling.

“Now is good.” Dean started to pull Cas toward the door, then he paused. “Uh, don’t worry, I have some spare clothes in my trunk. I’ll loan you a shirt so we can go out somewhere for dinner.”

“After dinner can we stain those clothes too?”

Dean’s cheek hurt his grin was so big now. “I like you, Cas.”

“I like you too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the hugs, cuties. ♥


	12. Vampire AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is a supernatural being who has lived alone for centuries. He never expects that to change... until he meets Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS FINISHED! ~~And it has become hella cheesy.~~ Please enjoy.  
>  (Scroll to the double line to find where it ended yesterday)
> 
> ~~Okay, don't be mad, but... this one is NOT going to resolve in one chapter. This one took on a longer life than I intended and I just can't get it all done in a day (or start a different one), not with the late start I got on it. I will try to update it tomorrow along with another new trope, but don't count on it. Anyway, if you're looking for the cheesy cuteness, it is definitely mostly missing in this chapter, though there is a bit of it. And if you don't like WIPs, you should skip this chapter until later. I'll announce in the notes for the next chapter when I've added more to this one.~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Sorry I am not my usual happy, love-flinging self. Little gunshy. I still love my readers. Hopefully I will be back to normal soon.~~

The Count had lived in the castle on the peak for hundreds of years. Of course, no one knew that except what few others there were besides himself, due to careful planning on his part. He would never keep a servant for longer than ten years or so before finding a reason to send them away. It was a rare servant who dared question him or gossip, anyway, but he found it was better to err on the side of caution. He never went down to the town himself, but he always meticulously made himself up to look the age he was meant to be.

Every few decades when one of his visitors would come—always when he was between servants—he could conveniently be reported to die and a distant young relative—still the count himself, but with a brand new name—would arrive to take over the castle grounds. He had been Viscount Dmitri Krushnic, Count Vladimir Tippens, Lord James Milton, among others.

Currently, he was Castiel Novak. His real name was Cassiel, and it was nice to be back to something similar.

In all his time at the castle, though human faces came and went, nothing really ever changed. By day, he mostly read books or painted or kept bees or did one of the myriad hobbies he had learned in his time on Earth—and there were many. By night, he hunted and fed on the fauna in locations not too close by.

In two hundred years, he would say that, aside from learning a few new languages and skills, and other than Balthazar taking and leaving at least six new wives, nothing whatsoever had really changed. His life was quiet, safe, and predictable.

It was not, as Balthazar called it, “blindingly dull” or anything of the sort. It was familiar, and comfortable. It was stable. It did not change.

At least, not until the day Dean Winchester came to the castle.

Everything changed from that moment and Castiel knew instinctively his life could not ever go back to the way it had been. It began as soon as Castiel first laid eyes on him. The Count had had his share of lovers through the years, of course. He was nearly eight hundred years gone from the last time he had seen his virginity. But never in his existence had he been similarly affected by the sight of someone’s face and body.

In the face of Dean’s overwhelming beauty, everything else looked lackluster and dull. Flowers looked ugly and colors muted whenever Dean was in view beside them. Castiel could not help but stare at him, often and unabashedly—at least until he would get caught.

“Like something you see? See something you like?” Dean would always ask in that cheeky way of his.

Castiel would never answer. He would always turn tail and run the other direction, hiding out for the next few hours until his embarrassment had cooled again.

Those weren’t the only questions Dean asked, though, not by half. Castiel answered most of his other questions, when he could. If he did not know the answer, he would usually endeavor to learn it in great haste, so that he might come back and tell Dean what he had discovered.

Dean would grace him with one of his life-altering smiles and they would talk, sometimes for hours, on whatever new subject had been brought to light. Castiel could not remember a time in his life when he had been happy. Not before this time with Dean.

Though he was old and should have been wise, Dean had been with him for several years before Castiel could admit to himself that he was in love with the young man. Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, since he had never experienced love before in his long life.

They had been taking their meals together for quite some time. It was one such ordinary seeming dinner, after far too many glasses of wine, when Cas—for Dean had long since caused him to think of himself as such—came to this startling revelation.

“So, my brother, he—”

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” the Count blurted all at once. No sooner thought than on the lips.

Dean’s luminous green eyes flew wide and his jaw dropped open.

So keenly felt was the rejection Castiel perceived that he could neither move nor speak to plead his case or run away. He could only stare at Dean dejectedly as the younger man composed himself.

“But I’m nobody, Cas. Nothin’ special. You’re a Count. _Royalty_. I’m just a servant boy from nowhere.” His eyes were sad and sorry, as if he regretted things must be this way.

Perhaps, then, _not_ rejected?

“You are everything to _me_ , Dean. You are my companion and my friend. You make me laugh as no one has done in a hun—” Here Cas faked a cough. “Pardon me. No one has made me laugh in a very long time, I mean to say. Why should I not love you just because you have no money? Have I not money for us both? Nobility enough for the pair of us? I have lived in this castle alone forever, it seems. But I might have been dead for all I was living before I met you.”

Dean’s eyes welled with tears at the declaration. “I need some time with this, Cas. I didn’t let myself want it because I thought it was impossible. Hard for me to switch my brain over now, you know?”

Castiel wasn’t sure if he did or didn’t, but he nodded and did his best to smile. Time was all he had in the world. He had learned infinite patience. Even if he didn’t wish to waste a single second of Dean’s far shorter life.

### ♥

Two days went by as usual, with Dean more subdued than was his normal personality, but he didn’t shy away from Castiel or refuse meals with him or anything so severe as that. He was simply quieter and slower to smile.

Finally, at dinner on the second day, Cas learned what had been on Dean’s mind.

“What are you, Cas?” he asked without preamble as they drank wine with their dessert.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed, but he struggled to give nothing away. “What do you mean?”

“Look, my family, we’re....” Dean sighed heavily. “We’re hunters. I mean, I’m not. Not anymore, but I know you’re not just some Count, okay? So what are you? I need to know.”

Dean’s eyes were pleading, but Castiel’s own had grown hard as he glared at the man in front of him.

“Get out.” His words were quiet, but so sharp they echoed through the room regardless.

“What? Cas, no, I—”

“Get _out_!” Castiel repeated, this time in a low roar. He stood up from the table. “Go get your things, take one of my horses and leave this house at once.”

Dean looked on the verge of tears, but Cas was too furious to notice.

“Cas, _why_?”

Something in his voice broke through Castiel’s defenses and the rage bled out into pain so deep he knew he had never felt its equal.

“Dean, I cannot and will not abide _hunters_ in my home,” he said with a a trace of his emotion in his voice. He struggled to regain his composure and hold on to the anger that kept him upright. He flicked a look up and down Dean’s person. “No matter how pretty they may be.” He turned away, unable to bear the look in those green eyes any longer. “Your services are no longer required. Please go.”

\---

Castiel sent for Balthazar at once. Probably, Bal thought, as soon as the door had closed behind this Dean Winchester. Poor Cassie. He was never very good with emotions.

Balthazar came quickly, but he didn’t use his powers of flight for the last leg of the journey, figuring it was better for Castiel if the townspeople saw him receiving a visitor. They wouldn’t have seen the man himself since he had “moved in” a few days before hiring Dean—and that had been a few years back now.

Balthazar stopped in at the shops and bought a few things, letting it drop that he was visiting the castle. He flirted with everyone and generally tried to leave them with a good impression of the family who owned the castle. The days of mobs with torches were mostly over, but Bal knew they could return all too quickly without maintenance of goodwill. He knew Cassie would never think to do these things for himself.

Finally, he hired a motorcycle and made way up the long road to the castle, thankful that he’d convinced Castiel to get running water and electricity a few years ago, so at least he could have a hot bath. One day perhaps the drive would be passable by car, but that would take more resources than Cas was likely to want to devote to modernization. Balthazar would be lucky to convince him to get a phone or internet.

Halfway up the road, Bal spotted something strange off the side of the road, a little further up the mountain. At first, he wasn’t sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Then he saw it a second time and knew he had to stop and investigate when he reached the right altitude.

As he neared the spot, he knew it wasn’t anything other than what it looked like—smoke. Someone had a fire going on Castiel’s property. Curious. And dangerous.

Bal turned off the bike and climbed off. He removed his helmet and secured it, then stepped into the brush by the side of the road. Only a few yards of walking brought him to where he could see a small clearing. There was a small fire burning in the middle and belongings scattered off to the side. There wasn’t anyone in sight, since whoever it was had no doubt heard Bal’s bike approach.

“Whoever you are, you may as well come out. You’re trespassing on my cousin’s property and I’m willing to stay here all day and night with your things until you have to return, so you may as well show yourself now.”

At first, Bal thought his request would be ignored, but then he heard a deep sigh from not too far away. A man stepped out of the brush only a few yards closer to the fire, hands held in the air. Once Balthazar could see his face, it wasn’t hard to guess at whom he was looking.

“Dean Winchester, I presume?”

“How—”

“My cousin spent a great deal of time expounding on your uncanny beauty and the exact shade of green to be found in your eyes. It wasn’t difficult.” Bal relaxed his stance and took a seat on a nearby boulder. “Pray do tell, however, just what the hell you are still doing on the property? It has been some days since he sent you away, has it not?”

When Dean did not speak, a sudden thought came to Bal and he sprang back to his feet, reaching for his weapon.

“Are you planning to hunt him? I will kill you where you stand—”

“I’m not a hunter anymore!” Dean burst out, full of righteous fury. His anger immediately left him, however and he collapsed onto the ground in lotus pose. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. And I didn’t want to leave him all alone.”

This last was barely a whisper and someone without Bal’s specific talents—including enhanced hearing—would not have heard it.

“Hm,” he said, sitting down again. “Why didn’t you tell him you weren’t a hunter anymore?”

“I _did_! He wouldn’t listen to me, though.”

“That I believe. Stubbornness is one of Castiel’s most enduring qualities.” He stared at Dean shrewdly. “No doubt it has helped keep him alive, however.”

Dean nodded, breaking bits of grass and tossing them around. “I know he’s got a right to be scared of hunters. And I’m sure he’s had people give him plenty of reasons not to trust them. I just... I would have thought he’d trust _me_ , even if he didn’t trust what I used to be.” Dean looked up at him then. “Are you going to kill me? Or tell him I’m here?”

Balthazar considered. “No, I don’t think so. At least not yet.” He gestured toward himself with his fingers. “Come, he wouldn’t let you explain, but why don’t you explain it to me, hm? Tell me your story and I will decide from there.”

Dean let out an explosive breath. “Yeah, okay.” He walked closer, finding a boulder nearer to Bal. “What’s your—oh, wait. You said you’re his cousin? I guess that makes you either Inias or Balthazar. You don’t seem the shrinking violet type, so I’m guessing its the latter.”

Bal allowed himself a small smile, inclining his head. If Castiel had told Dean even that much of their family, his feelings for this young man ran deep indeed. Balthazar hoped he could mend this fence for his cousin. If anyone deserved some happiness, it was Cassie.

“Okay, so my family, they’ve always been hunters, as far as I know. At least, that’s what my dad said. I never really liked it. It didn’t seem right. Some of the monsters were killing people, sure, and they needed to be stopped, I got that.”

Dean stood up, combing a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. He began to pace as he talked.

“More often than not, though, the monster hadn’t done anything. My dad would always say ‘Yet, son. They haven’t don’t anything _yet_ ,’ but I was never fully convinced. I would never kill anything I didn’t know had killed at least one person.” Dean laughed, but there was a sadness to it. “Used to make the old man so damned mad.”

“I’m sure,” Bal said, struggling to keep his voice even.

Like Castiel, he had known far too many men like Dean’s father. Ready to kill them on sight, without a single thought to whether they had actually done anything aside from not being human.

“Then he went after this _family_.” Dean’s voice broke slightly on the last word. “I mean, there was a kid, you know? And sure, we knew they were werewolves, but they hadn’t killed anyone. They were taking out livestock, but never with excessive force, never more than one from the same herd... nothing that bad, right?” Dean sat again and dropped his head in his hands.

When he looked up again and finished his story, his eyes were haunted. When he was done speaking, Balthazar clapped his hands and stood up.

“Come on.”

“What?” Dean asked, blinking as if coming to.

“Get your things. We’re going up to the castle. Cassie may be stubborn, but I’m even more stubborn. He’s going to let you tell your side of the story if it kills me.”

“Why?” Dean’s face was incredulous.

“Because unlike your father, I believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves. And my cousin, despite his current mistrust, cares very much for you. He’s lived a long life all alone. I would like that loneliness to end, at least for a little while longer.”

“Are you immortals?” Dean asked in a very soft voice.

“Let’s go speak with Cassie.”

\---

Dean wasn’t sure if he could trust Balthazar, but he knew Cas did. He also knew, if there was even a single chance of getting Cas back, he was going to take it. He’d spent the past couple of days trying to think of ways to convince Castiel to listen, everything from writing him a letter to just knocking on the door over and over until he wore the Count down.

Since he was on horseback, it was taking him longer to get back than it would Balthazar. He wondered if Balthazar intended to tell Cas he was on the way or not. Judging by what he knew of Castiel’s cousin, he would bet the answer was ‘not.’

He still didn’t know what sort of creature Castiel was, but he knew the guy wasn’t human. For one thing, he was pretty sure the man never actually slept. For another, it was pretty obvious—if you knew the signs, at least—that the Count didn’t actually need the food he ate. He ate when he was told it was meal time, but otherwise never seemed to think of it. Dean had tested the theory once, going a whole day without telling Cas it was time to eat, and the Count had never noticed.

What he’d said to Cas was true and also not the whole truth. He hadn’t allowed himself to admit he had fallen for Castiel because he didn’t expect Cas to love him back. However, he also hadn’t allowed it because he knew Cas wasn’t human—or at least not fully human—and until he knew what Castiel really was, they couldn’t be together. Even then, Dean wasn’t sure. Could he really love a shapeshifter or a rugaru or something like that, especially if it turned out Castiel was killing people?

Of course, Dean didn’t think that was the case. He never left the castle. He hid himself away, trying to avoid humanity—another red flag—and that spoke of someone who didn’t want to kill, didn’t it?

He hoped so.

Soon enough, the entrance was in view. He took a deep breath and got down from the horse, taking time to remove his bags and set them on the porch. He stalled a little further by returning the horse to her place in the stable. After that, there was no more delaying. It was time to see if Castiel would let him in to explain or not.

Dean used the ancient knocker and heard its boom echo through the house. He could hear someone speaking inside, but couldn’t make out words or the voice.

“—petulant assh—Hello, Dean,” Balthazar greeted. “Do come inside. My cousin was just telling me how he’s going to sit down like the adult he’s been for a very long time and listen to whatever you have to say.” He turned to look over his shoulder, pinning Castiel in the far doorway with a look. “Weren’t you, Cassie?”

“Fine,” Cas growled and stalked forward to drop himself on the nearest settee. “But it won’t change my mind, Bal.”

Bal smiled and ushered Dean inside. Dean glanced at him, but he really only had eyes for Cas. It had only been two days, but it felt like a lifetime without seeing those gorgeous blue eyes and that tousled dark hair.

“Hey, Cas.” He knew Castiel wasn’t patient enough to sit through small talk, but Dean just couldn’t _not_ say his name out loud when he could see him.

“Dean.” His voice was arctic and his eyes were even colder. “Please say what you have to say and be gone.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, sitting on the chair opposite Cas. Balthazar took a seat next to Cas. Instead of sitting rigidly upright like his cousin, though, Bal lounged back, arms stretched across the settee in a completely relaxed posture.

He began as he had with Balthazar, explaining that his family had always been hunters. Unlike Bal’s stoicism, however, Dean was confronted with Castiel’s growing fury. He hurriedly launched into the part about how he himself had never approved of his father’s methods. He could tell, though, how much John Winchester’s actions and words enraged the man he loved. By the time he reached the story about the werewolf family, Cas was shaking with barely controlled anger.

Dean’s voice was quiet and timid, so unlike him. However, he couldn’t afford to show any hostility. Castiel was on the verge of snapping and he didn’t want to set him off.

“So, when I realized that he meant to kill not just the father, but all of them, even the little girl... I knew I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to get them all out of the trailer where they were living, before he got there, but we weren’t fast enough.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, not finding this part of the story any easier to tell, even though he’d just shared it less than an hour before. He doubted it would ever get easier to tell, even if he lived a century or more.

He didn’t want to set off Cas, but he stood and paced, unable to sit still for this part.

“He, uh, he grabbed the little girl. Like, to use as bait to get the parents to stop running and let him take them out. He pretended like he wasn’t going to kill her anyway, but he’d already told me different.” Dean cleared his throat. “The father, um, he started talking to my dad. Distracted him enough that I was able to slip away. I had planned to just immobilize him with one of the tranq darts I had, but he got mad at the male werewolf and started to cut the girl with his silver knife.”

He noted, in some dim part of his mind, that Cas was on the edge of his seat now, leaning forward. His fury had turned into something else, though Dean’s subconscious was the only part of his brain that registered this for the moment.

“I, um... I shot—I shot him. My dad. He was gonna kill a little girl who hadn’t done anything, I had to—”

“Dean, it’s all right,” Cas said.

He wrapped his arms around Dean and only then did Dean realize he had started shaking. For some reason, it had been easier to tell Balthazar. He had given a much more clinical account. This time, however, he was right back in the moment. The moment when he’d had to choose between his own father and what was right.

Cas took his place in the chair and pulled Dean down onto his lap. They sat there in silence for several minutes, until Bal politely cleared his throat.

“Cassie, I believe it is your turn to tell us a story, is it not?”

Cas looked at Balthazar for a long moment, then at Dean for a few beats, and finally his own lap. He nodded.

\---

Castiel’s anger had entirely drained away by the time Dean’s story was done. He was left feeling empty and sad, longing to take away the pain he could almost see around Dean like a cloud. The best he could do was hold him, but it didn’t seem enough. When Balthazar told him to tell his own story, Cas knew that he must.

“I’m a vampire.” He dared not look at Dean as he said it, unable to bear the look of horror that might appear. “I come from a family of vampires. I was never bitten. I was born this way, as were all of my immediate kin.” He felt as if a shadow crossed over his vision as he turned his gaze inward toward his memories. “I grew from a baby just as you and other humans did. For the first fifty years of my life, things were peaceful.

“I lived at home with my mother, father, and siblings, just as most other vampires families did in those days. Perhaps they still do, though I’m not sure. We had a castle much larger than this one. We raised multiple herds of livestock to feed on. We kept mostly to ourselves, but my father had amassed great wealth and we also did things to benefit the community.”

Cas wiped a hand down his face and pushed at Dean until he got up. “Then we started to hear stories about men called hunters. They had learned of our kind and about werewolves and other creatures of the night and they were killing us wholesale.” He moved to the settee again and closed his eyes. Even centuries later, the memory was still painful. “They found us somehow. A team of them slaughtered my mother. Thankfully none of us had to watch it happen, but my father found her. Sick with grief, he fled.

“My siblings and I knew the only way to survive was to do the same. Vampires have a few special powers aside from immortality. We can communicate telepathically to a degree. We can shrink ourselves. And we can fly.”

“That’s where the tales about turning into bats come from?” Dean sat back in the chair as he asked.

Cas nodded.

“I’m sorry about your mom, Cas. I lost mine too. Demon.”

Castiel gave him a small, sad smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry for your loss as well.” He sighed and looked at Dean for the first time in several minutes. “I came here and I’ve remained here for several hundred years. Not quite a millennium yet that I’ve been alive, but it’s not more than two human lifetimes from it, either.”

Dean frowned. “So how many, um, husbands or wives or whatever have you had?”

Castiel dropped his gaze again, not sure what to say. If Dean did not return his feelings, the truth might make him stay out of some sense of guilt. Cas did not want that.

“Unlike myself, my dear cousin has avoided taking a spouse of any description. He always took the ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ bit a tad too seriously, you see. And, of course, he would never turn a human by choice, even if they were a willing participant.”

Cas felt the weight of Dean’s gaze on him.

“That true, Cas? You never turned a human?”

Castiel found it in himself to meet Dean’s eyes at last. “Neither I nor anyone in my immediate family—or Balthazar’s, as it happens—has ever taken a human life or turned one into a vampire, with the exception of my sister Anna and my brother Gabriel. In her case it was to save the life of a human who had been mortally wounded trying to protect her. Gabriel—”

“He did it because his fiance asked him to, right?” Dean was looking at him with what appeared to be amazement. “I never told you what happened to my brother when I was a kid, did I, Cas?” Dean asked, turning away from him.

“No.” He was confused by the seeming nonsequiter, but he stayed quiet.

“The same demon that killed my mom infected him. Demon blood. Didn’t turn him into a demon, but it made him pretty well immortal. Not to mention, made him hate himself. He had the same blood in his veins that ran in our mom’s murderer. He felt... unclean, you know?”

Cas nodded.

“Anyway, one day, Sam meets somebody and it was hate at first sight. I mean, all they did was argue, right? Until one day the arguing turned into something else and, lo and behold, they decided to get married.”

Dean rubbed the under side of his nose with a finger, then looked up at Cas again.

“Now, knowing my brother is big on honesty, his betrothed realized that they had to come clean about _their_ sordid past—a little like what we’re doing right now, I guess.” Dean cleared his throat. “My brother’s fiance was a vampire too. And Sammy saw his chance to finally have blood that was clean again, even if it wasn’t human anymore.

Cas continued to frown in confusion for another few seconds before the truth finally dawned on him and he gaped.

“Sammy is Sam. Our brothers are married!” Then Cas frowned again. “But Dean... Gabe married Sam over a century ago, how—”

Dean grinned. “I look pretty good for a hundred and fifty, huh?” He pulled down the collar of his shirt and revealed two small scars that were obvious puncture wounds.

Castiel felt his anger rising. “You were fed on. By whom?” he demanded.

“Relax, Cas. It wasn’t like that. He was a buddy of mine in Louisiana. We got captured by a couple of hunters one time when we found out they were keeping monsters for sport and tried to free their captives. They’d kept us locked up for a couple weeks. Obviously, they fed us, but they didn’t know Benny was a vamp. We didn’t wanna give them a reason to kill us before we had a chance to find a way out, so finally, I let him drink.”

Dean stared at the far wall for a moment and Cas couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His mind was reeling with all the new information he’d learned about his love, though. Was it possible they could be together? He was starting to think it was and it made him giddy.

“Um, he wasn’t supposed to turn me, but things went bad at the compound. Benny had told me about shrinking and flying and all that and when it came down to it, I knew that was going to be my only chance to get out. I let him turn me and we got away.”

“What happened to the other captives?” Bal wanted to know.

“We went back later, let them free.”

“Did you kill the hunters?” Cas was afraid of the answer.

“Nah. Wanted to, believe me, but just didn’t sit right. I don’t like killing when the person or monster or whatever hasn’t killed someone else, you know? They were scumbags, that’s for sure, but....” Dean shook his head. Then he grinned. “My buddy got them arrested for something else, though. They didn’t get out for a long time.”

“Well, gentlemen, this has been fascinating, but I believe I’m going to retire for the night. I’m quite exhausted.”

“Balthazar, you don’t sleep.” Cas glared at his cousin.

“Yes, well, story time is over and romance bores me. You two love birds try to keep it down, all right?” With that, he sauntered up the stairs to his usual room.

Cas rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“So, is that what we are, Cas?” Dean’s voice was very soft now. “I mean, you did kind of kick me out, so, I don’t exactly know where I stand.”

“Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine, Cas. I get it. Your family was torn apart because of hunters. It makes sense you’d hate them.”

“Yes, but I should’ve trusted _you_. It’s been years now. I know you. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if I didn’t.” Cas couldn’t help a small laugh. “I haven’t guarded my heart so closely for all these centuries just to give it away on a whim to someone I wasn’t sure I could trust.” He shook his head, sobering. “I don’t know why I was so foolish.”

Dean stood and came over to cup Cas’s face in his hands. “I love you too, you know.” Castiel lost his breath at the words. “I couldn’t say it when I didn’t know what you were, but I do. And since I’m immortal too, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His thumb stroked across Cas’s lip gently and Cas thought he’d never had a touch so sweet.

“So, what do you say, Cas? We gonna give this a shot?”

“Yes, Dean. Yes, please,” he answered breathlessly. Then he gave Dean the first of many long and lingering kisses.

Yes, everything had definitely changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written gothic before. Does this qualify? I'm not even sure. It feels very dark and gothic, though. Hope you're having a better day than yesterday. ♥


	13. Handcuffed Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been kidnapped and he's not the only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finished not only this trope of the day but also the gothic vampire au trope from yesterday AND posted a chapter of Plain English? *points to self with thumbs* This crazy prolific pansexual, that's who! 
> 
> I'm not sure if I mentioned this or not, but
> 
> ## ♥I LOVE YOU♥

When Dean came to, he realized he was handcuffed to a pipe on one side and some guy on the other. He groaned as he lifted his aching head and did his best to look around. The back of his head throbbed where he’d apparently hit it when the chloroform made him collapse.

They were in a gross looking basement of some sort. There were pipes and damp boxes and rusty tools everywhere. No windows he could see, but there was a table just a few feet away from the bench where he was cuffed.

He stole a glance at his companion and damned near did a double take. The guy was hot. Like, seriously hot. He had the whole tall, dark and handsome thing down to a science.

Dean didn’t hook up with men very often, simply because of his line of work. It usually took him through small towns, where gay bars weren’t exactly in abundance. He liked women just fine, so it really wasn’t an issue. Sometimes, though, when he saw a man like the guy next to him, he dreamed of what it would be like to be taken the way he really wanted to be, by someone who really knew how.

“All right, Winchester, maybe keep it in your pants till you’re out of the creepy basement, huh?” he chastised himself aloud.

He was glad they had handcuffed him to the man by his right arm, rather than his left. It gave him a better shot at reaching the lockpick he kept in his boot. He carefully pulled his foot onto the bench, also grateful they had underestimated him and left his feet free. It took him only seconds to get the pick and no more than a minute to get it angled just perfectly to start working on opening the middle cuffs.

“ _What the fuck_?!” the man exclaimed, coming awake suddenly and jerking hard enough that Dean almost lost his pick.

“Shh! Calm down, dude, I’ll have us out in a minute, but keep your voice down,” he whispered.

The man—even hotter now that his wide blue eyes were visible—nodded, but he looked no less fearful. Dean painstakingly got the pick in the right position again.

“Don’t move, please,” he asked, risking another glance as his hot companion. “I’m Dean, by the way,” he said in a low voice as he turned his gaze back to his work.

“Cas.”

“Heya, Cas. Any idea why _you_ got taken?”

“My family is full of criminals and assholes,” the other man growled softly.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“What about you?” Cas asked, just as Dean heard the lock on his side click free.

Dean grinned and pulled his hand out, going immediately to work on the cuff binding his left hand.

“Ah, well, their bosses owe my boss some money and they think if they capture me, they can use me as leverage.”

“They can’t?”

“Nah. My boss knows I can get myself out. And if I can’t, he figures it’s my own damn fault, you know?” He let out a small noise of triumph as he got the second cuff undone in even less time. “All right, your turn.”

Dean had to stop and stare for a moment, not sure whether to curse or bless the situation in which he had found himself. They had cuffed Cas to something further down the wall. There were boxes and heavy things stacked in such a way that the only way for Dean to reach the cuffs was going to be to practically lay on top of Cas.

“Um, yeah, this is gonna be a little awkward, but I gotta kinda lay over you to do this, okay?”

Cas swallowed and nodded, so Dean got into position. No sooner had he found the right angle to reach the cuffs than Cas spoke again.

“My apologies if I become aroused. I’m gay and you’re very attractive.”

His voice sort of squeaked in the cutest way when he said it and Dean allowed himself a smile, since his face was hidden from Cas’s view.

“Yeah, well, I’m bisexual, but, you know, same, I guess.” He chuckled and shook his head, getting back to work on the cuffs.

Though the angle was uncomfortable and the lighting dim at best, Dean soon had Cas’s other hand free. He stopped to remove the dangling cuffs from Cas’s left hand and then it was time to formulate an escape plan.

“All right, it looks like we gotta find a room with a window. If we can’t, then we’re gonna have to go upstairs, but I’m hoping for door number one.”

“You are clearly the expert here. Lead the way,” Cas said, absently rubbing one wrist.

Dean grabbed a pipe for defense, indicating for Cas to do the same, and they made their way out into a hallway. Across the way, Dean saw another door and he led Cas to it. When he opened it, he saw another windowless room, but there was one more doorway on the other side of the room and Dean could see a window there.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I see a window over there. If there’s someone in the next room, stand back and leave the fighting to me unless you’re directly attacked.”

At Cas’s nod, Dean moved forward, motioning for Cas to follow. When they had reached the other side of the room, Dean’s heart was thundering in his ears, but he needn’t have worried. There was no one in the room and no other door through which they might enter. Dean closed the door behind them and hurried to the window.

“Awesome, this is big enough for us, I think. Now I just gotta find something we can stand on,” he said, looking around.

“How about this?” Cas lifted up a stool.

“Perfect!”

Dean positioned it under the window and climbed up to check the view. He could see a few inches of grass that led into a thick wooded area—no people anywhere.

“We’re in luck, come on. You go first and then I’ll go. When you get through, go straight into the woods and don’t—”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’ll wait for you outside the window in case of trouble.”

Dean felt something warm in his belly. He still considered arguing, but they didn’t really have the time.

“Yeah, okay. Hop up.”

Dean got an excellent view of the man’s ass as he hauled himself through the opening.

“He can haul himself through _my_ opening,” Dean muttered.

Once Cas was out of the way, he quickly started pulling himself through. He kicked the stool over by mistake, though, so Cas had to help him out.

“So, Cas,” Dean said breathlessly as he maneuvered through the small space. “You—phew, damn—you maybe wanna go out some time?”

“Is this an—ugh—appropriate time for that question?”

Cas leaned back and tugged Dean the rest of the way through the window. They landed with Dean sprawled on top of Cas, crotches perfectly aligned. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“That a no?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Dean grinned. “So it’s a yes.”

“If I say yes, can we run for our lives like we should already be doing?” Cas asked, but the quirk of his lips took the heat out of his response.

Dean was on his feet in an instant, holding a hand out to Cas.

“Yep!” he said as he hauled Cas to his feet. “But you’re buying!” he called as he took off running.

To his surprise, Cas soon caught up and overtook him.

“That’s fine, Dean, but I’m also topping!”

Dean found it was really difficult to run with a semi, but he managed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♫Caaaaan you feeeeeel the loooooooooooooooove toniiiiiiiiiight?♪ Yep, definitely on an accomplishment high. Or my fever is back up. Either way, talk to me!! *whines* ♥ ~~P.S. Have I mentioned that when you faithful readers comment, it gives me life and basically makes everything better? I love you more than is probably healthy. Like, Dean loves Sam levels of love, people.~~


	14. High school AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel had decided as soon as he woke up that sometime today, he was going to find Dean Winchester and he was going to ask him the question to end all questions. The single most important question one high schooler could as another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *schmoops your face* 
> 
> This one is quick and cheesy, like a Kraft Single Sandwich.

Today was the day.

As soon as Cas opened his eyes to greet the day, he knew. Today was the day he asked Dean Winchester to the prom.

Castiel Godson was Captain of the Cheer Squad, Treasurer of Beta Club, Reigning Champion of the Debate Team, Vice President of the local chapter of the Star Trek Fan Club, and one of the richest kids in school.

Dean Winchester was a mysterious bad boy no one knew much about, who came from the poor side of town and tried to remain invisible unless someone was starting trouble he felt like ending.

Cas, despite his drive to succeed and his wealth, had still been the target of bullies in his younger years. It was the day he saw Dean stand up for his younger brother Gabriel that Castiel realized his crush for Dean had grown far beyond the confines of that simple word.

Dean Winchester had a reputation as a ladies man. Nearly every girl in school had a story about how he’d loved and left them. There were hundreds of tales of lost virginity, next day phone calls that never came and general womanizing behavior.

The thing was, Castiel had never actually seen Dean on a date with a single girl, ever. Not since the first day he’d come to Cas’s school.

And Cas? He’d been looking.

What Cas had seen was Dean out on the town with his friends—Charlie, Benny, Jo... even his little brother Sam—but never once, despite the many claims to the contrary, had Castiel ever seen Dean taking any girl out to dinner before allegedly stealing her virtue in the back of his gloriously sexy car. Castiel suspected strongly that every single girl had made her story up. They all clearly wanted Dean—and they were all willing to lie for the prestige being his, even for a night, offered.

Cas had also seen some interesting things, like Dean checking out one or two boys who were walking by, whenever it seemed like no one in his group was paying attention. He’d caught Dean flirting with an out and proud clerk at the movie theater and seen him giving a soft smile to the rainbow posters the GSA had put up along the corridor.

Castiel, in other words, had reason to hope.

He’d decided to wait until after homeroom and first period. When the bell rang at 9:27AM, Cas was ready. He walked calmly over to Dean’s locker and waited for the bowlegged Adonis to arrive. He had promised himself that he would not let riveting green eyes disconcert him or divert him from his mission. He would ask Dean and let the chips fall where they may.

Cas was staring off down the wrong hallway when a throat cleared behind him.

“Uh, excuse me, but you’re kinda in front of my locker.” _Dean._

Castiel spun around. “Yes.” Cas managed before those eyes gave him pause. “Um, I was actually waiting for you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Nothing more than curiosity yet, which Cas took as a good sign.

“Yes. I had a question to ask you.”

“Uh, okay, sure. It’s, um, Castiel, right?”

 _OH GOD HE KNOWS MY NAME_.

“Yes, how...?”

Dean smiled, a little shyly, it seemed, before answering. “Oh, I think we have a class together? You did that really good speech on Alan Turing.”

Castiel smiled warmly. “Yes, I did. I mean, thanks, I’m glad you liked it.”

“Welcome. So, ask your question, Cas. I don’t wanna be late to Physics. Crowley hates me.”

“He hates everyone. But, yes. The question.” Those green eyes pinned Cas in place, despite his best efforts.

“Hey, Winchester, come on!” Charlie called form a few feet away.

“Be right there, Char, I’m in the middle of something,” Dean said calmly, making no move to leave.

“ _Willyougotopromwithme_?” Castiel asked in a rushed single breath.

Dean looked shocked and then pleased and then shy. He blushed over every bit of skin Cas could see, including his hands.

“Um, I... yeah, I can, um, yeah, okay. I, um, gotta, class, you know?” Dean said. Then he practically ran for Charlie, without once looking back.

Castiel spent the rest of the day grinning from ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the complete lack of physical affection. I blame my lack of sobriety. Also, the way I like to make you suffer and beg me for smut. xD ♥ ~~But you know I love you the most~~


	15. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a Christmas party at the bunker and Charlie* was left in charge of outfits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *contains no actual Charlie.
> 
> Another short and sweet one, but with a little more action this time. No smut again. Oops! I know, I know. But there's a Halloween party tonight and I've yet to find a costume, since I've been too busy with the leaking roof and other "torrential rain coming from the hurricane" problems (which could be so much worse and I'm so grateful they aren't - please give to Mexico, if you can, RandomActs can tell you where).
> 
> (Also, kinda proud of myself for making it over 2 weeks without missing a day! Now let's see if I can manage 15 more days!)

The party, such as it was, had barely started. Dean still wasn’t sure about having Harry and Ed in the bunker, but Charlie had insisted. These days he was finding it even harder than usual to say no to her. What with her having died trying to save him from the Mark and all.

He was just grateful Cas had been able to get her back. Dean was sure it had taken some unpleasant negotiation on Cas’s part in order to make it happen. Hannah was his buddy, but there was no question that s/he was also a servant of Heaven. Still, it had happened and that’s what was important.

Speaking of Cas, Dean had yet to see him. Since he was living in the bunker pretty much all the time, Dean was a little surprised he wasn’t the first one here. The guy loved eggnog—molecule taste or not—and one of his favorite things was debunking all their Christmas customs.

Castiel’s favorite argument went something like: “You know Jesus was actually born in July, right? It’s a different hemisphere. The early church founders were a crafty bunch, I’ll give them that. Taking a pagan holiday and making it theirs.”

Finally, though he no longer had wings and couldn’t teleport, Cas appeared beside him.

“Shit!” Dean almost spilled his eggnog all over the ridiculous green sweater Charlie had made him wear. “Damn, man, you scar—what the fuck is that?” Dean asked, his expression going flat.

“Are you referring to the plant matter on my head?”

“ _Are you referring to the plant matter on my head?_ ” Dean mocked. “Yeah, Cas, that’s what I mean.”

“It’s a mistletoe crown. Charlie made it for me.”

Dean sighed. “Of course she did.” He took a long drink of eggnog.

Dean started to turn back toward the room at large, but then he noticed Cas shifting. Suddenly, the mistletoe was right over his head. And sure it was a stupid tradition that meant nothing, but he didn’t need that kind of pressure. His inappropriate crush on an angel was bad enough without a cheesy cliche being thrown into the mix.

“Whoa, hey, Cas, watch where you’re pointing that thing,” he joked, laugh a little forced.

“Oh.”

Dean could swear he watched Cas’s eyes dim a little bit. What the hell?

“So, you don’t _want_ to kiss me?” Castiel, incredibly powerful angel of the Lord, sounded small and scared and sad and Dean felt like the world’s biggest asshole, even more than he usually did.

“Hey, no, Cas, it’s not that, it’s just....”

But standing there, staring into those blue eyes for the thousand and first time, mistletoe dangling above him like a dare, Dean couldn’t remember what it ‘just’ was. No single reason presented itself for why he couldn’t finally press his lips to Cas’s lips—even if it never went further than that.

Refusing to allow himself to second guess, Dean surged forward, but not too fast. When his mouth touched Cas’s, it was light and sweet. But Cas’s hand came up to the back of his neck and pulled him in tighter, pressing their mouths firmly together.

Cas pulled back after a moment, looking a little shocked. Dean worried that his feelings were transparent and the angel was going to run away. Instead, Cas’s eyes crinkled at the corners and he drew Dean into a softer, deeper kiss.

It was a little while before either of them pulled away again. It might have been minutes or years for all Dean’s awareness of anything other than Cas’s mouth and hands in those moments. When Cas pulled back this time, he didn’t go very far.

In a low voice that really showed off the gravel, he said, “I think we should leave the partying to the others and retire to your bedroom instead.”

Dean’s eyes widened a little. “You sure?” His own voice wasn’t recognizable to his ears, it was so soft and breathless.

“Dean. It’s all I want for Christmas.”

Dean smiled and reached down for Cas’s hand. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious. Do you guys tell your fic-reading friends about me? Spread the word, that kind of thing? ~~If not, please do, I'm not above begging~~  
>  I know some of you do because you comment in pairs ;) ♥


	16. Meet in a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally gets the package he's been waiting for, but Cas intercepts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not the story I intended to deliver today, but it got away from me and wasn't going to be finished, so instead, have a story that's almost entirely smut.
> 
> TW: There is what might be construed as dubcon in this chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Ps. As with many of these tropes, I've[done this one before](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1007420/) (see Chapter 4, below "Absent Father")~~

 

Dean was headed to answer the door for the delivery person. His new box of porn and sex toys was arriving and he was so excited he couldn’t wait to try them all out. Then a voice called to him from the bedroom.

“Dean?”

“Cas?”

Dean went into the bedroom to see what he wanted, then saw that the box of toys had not only already been signed for, but Cas had it on the bed and opened to display all the items inside.

“Sorry, Dean, I thought it was my package. I see now that it is not.”

“Um, I can—”

“There is no need to explain, Dean. You are a man with sexual needs. It’s natural. Of course, if I had known you were interested in anal play, I could have given you assistance.”

Dean grew hard almost instantly, at the very thought of Cas, former servant of Heaven, helping him and providing him with _ass_ istance. He laughed at his pun to distract himself from his growing arousal.

“H-helped how, Cas?”

Suddenly Cas was right there, in his space, like the old days. “Why don’t you let me show you?” he said, in that rough voice Dean loved so much.

Dean’s mouth went dry and his eyes opened wide. He could only nod, unable to find words. He wasn’t sure what Cas would do, but the next moment, Dean found himself completely naked and on the bed.

“Man, angel mojo is some sexy shit,” he said.

“Dean, _you_ are some “sexy shit,”” Cas said, complete with air quotes.

Dean noticed that Cas was naked too and, damn, Jimmy Novak may have checked out early, but he’d had a life blessed with a huge dick before that. Dean licked his lips. He noticed Cas watching the movement and then the next second, Cas was kissing him, soft and then more passionately.

Cas pulled away only after several minutes of kissing and heavy petting.

“Dean, I have wanted this for so long. Even before I really understood what I was feeling. It took me having intercourse with—”

“Do _not_ say her name, Cas, okay? Just don’t.”

Wide blue eyes searched his face. “Dean, are you... jealous?”

“’ _Course_ I’m jealous, Cas! I wanted—” But Dean wasn’t going to finish that sentence.

Cas refused to do anything else until Dean finished his sentence, however.

“I wanted to be your first,” Dean muttered, knowing he was blushing and not even caring.

Cas responded by kissing him again. Now that they were naked and Cas was on top of him, their cocks were perfectly aligned for some decent frotting and they rutted against each other with mounting fervor. When Cas pulled back this time, he looked down toward their crotches, then back up at Dean.

“Dean, may I...?”

Dean, realizing that he meant prep, gulped, but nodded. _This was really happening. Holy shit_.

It turned out that prep with an angel was a bit different than prep with a regular person. Dean could feel his hole gently stretching without the aid of a finger, which was odd, but not entirely unpleasant. Then Cas—who had gotten lube from who only knew where—was sliding three fingers into him easily. Dean thought he was just testing the stretch, but then those fingers went straight for his P-spot and Dean nearly came off the bed with the intensity.

 _Putting someone back together must really give you a keen sense of where all their parts are located, even inside_ , Dean thought.

Cas was relentless, jabbing that spot over and over as he pistoned and scissored his fingers inside Dean’s ass.

Dean wondered if his cock might actually explode during his impending orgasm.

Then abruptly, the fingers were gone and Cas was leaning down to kiss him again. Dean found his left leg lifted up toward his stomach and then the blunt head of that huge cock was breaching him. Time seemed to slow down. He could feel every hot, velvety inch of it as Cas slid home. Cas had erred on the side of a metric fuckton of lube, but even so, Dean could feel it all. He felt so good, so tight and hot and good.

“Fuck, yeah, Cas,” he breathed.

Cas took it slow, but he was far from gentle. He slid into Dean slowly but with force behind each thrust. He unerringly skimmed Dean’s prostate each time. Only skimming, though, never pushing it too hard or making it too much. Just enough to make every nerve in Dean’s groin tingle and burn and heat up like magic.

Dean could feel his orgasm building all too soon. He didn’t want this feeling to ever end, but at the same time, he wanted to shake apart while wrapped around Cas, whom he had loved and wanted for so long.

“Cas,” he said on a broken almost-sob.

Whatever Cas heard in that word, it spurred him on. He increased his speed far beyond that of a normal human, Dean thought and started putting slightly more pressure on Dean’s P-spot. Dean felt his balls drawing tight, his skin pulling hot and taut, his pleasure concentrating.

“Oh, _fuckfuckfuck_ , yes! CasyesfuckIloveyou, _fuck_!” Dean yelled as the tightening thread of his release snapped and sent him shivering and shaking into the most intense orgasm of his life.

Cas kept right on fucking him as he shook and jerked and splattered them both. Blue eyes bored into him as he lay there, panting. Then Cas came too, thrusting so hard into Dean that he shoved him backwards a few inches, as if he needed more than all his dick to be inside Dean at the moment of bliss. Dean reached down and put his hand just above Cas’s pubic hair, wanting to feel the twitching muscles.

Instead of collapsing when he was done, as a mortal man likely would have, Cas grabbed Dean’s face in his hands and kissed him soundly once more. When he pulled away, he didn’t let go of Dean’s face.

“Dean, I have loved you for so long. I’ve waited years for you to say those words. Do you think we might—”

♫ _CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON_ _♪_

Dean shot straight up in bed in the bunker as his alarm went off. His heart was pounding and he wasn’t sure why, but he was really pissed and sad about being awake.

Then the dream came back to him and he felt tears climb up the back of his throat, through his nose and into his eyes.

“Aw, fuck,” he said softly.

It had felt so _real._ He had thought he’d finally gotten what he wanted, after all.

He was jerked out of his misery, however, when he realized that his boxer briefs were... not clean. In fact, he would say there were kind of... _squelchy_.

“Ugh, the aftermath of bottoming is—”

Dean’s eyes went wide as he realized the implications. There were physical remnants of the dream, including a dull ache in his backside that only came after a night on the bottom. If he needed further proof that it wasn’t just a dream, there was a feather lying on his comforter.

Just then, his bedroom door burst open. Cas came through, looking both terrified and terri _fying_ , which was some combination.

“Dean! What—” Then he blinked. “Since when do you set an alarm when you are not on a case?”

Dean stared at him for a minute before deciding to see how far playing dumb would get him. “How’d you know I set an alarm, Cas?”

“I heard it from the other room where I was... meditating.”

“Meditating.”

“Yes.”

Dean picked up the feather and twirled it around in his fingers.

“Hey, Cas? What’s this?” he asked innocently.

When Cas didn’t answer right away, Dean went further.

“How come you looked so scared when you came rushing in here?”

Cas slumped slightly, seeming defeated. “When you disappeared, I thought something had happened to you. Then I realized I heard music from in here and when I saw you, I realized what it must have been.”

“Disappeared from where, Cas?” Again, all innocence.

Cas’s chin dropped to his chest. “From the dream,” he mumbled into his shirt.

“The dream where we had the best sex of my life and you told me you love me? That dream?” Dean asked, getting off the bed and walking toward Cas as he did so.

“Dean, I’m sorry, please don’t be angry, I—”

Dean finally relented. “I think you must be forgetting the part of the dream where I said it to you first, angel.”

Cas’s head snapped up and those blue eyes pleaded with him to be telling the truth.

“Can’t fly but you can still do dreams, huh?” Dean reached out and pulled Cas forward. “No more games, though, Cas. I don’t like being manipulated. Some might argue consent issues, but I’d say I obviously wanted it. You didn’t have to do more than suggest sex in the dream and I was rip raring to go. I don’t like the lie of it, though, man. So from now on, honesty only, all right?”

Cas nodded.

Dean at last allowed himself to smile.

“Now, why don’t you come over here and show me what one of those kisses tastes like for real, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t realize it would happen on the physical plane. In other dreams, that’s not the case. I do promise to be honest from now on.”

“Cas. Sweetheart. Sorry don’t get me kissed, now, come on.”

This time Cas didn’t protest at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to post the next one. It's got my jammy jam in it. Hugs and loves. ♥♥♥


	17. Stuck Someplace Together in Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is meeting Dean at his cabin in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Guys, this isn't finished, but I wanted to stick to posting everyday and I'm exhausted, so I am going to bed after this. It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, so if that's not your thing, feel free to wait until tomorrow when I will update this and post the next one.~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I've [done this trope before](http://archiveofourown.org/series/70489). It's one of my favorites.
> 
> Done! (ish) Scroll to double line to find where it starts again. ~~I may revisit this one later, did I mention this trope is my favorite?~~  
>  ♥

Dean was pretty excited, all things considered.

The weather wasn’t ideal, but he figured that was kind of the risk a person took when they went to stay at their cabin in the woods during winter. Plus, unlike Sam who hated the cold intensely, Dean loved the snow.

The exciting part, though, was that Cas was on his way to visit for a whole week, just the two of them, and Dean could barely contain himself the nearer Cas’s arrival time grew. He hadn’t seen his best friend in a couple of months and he was anxious to do so now.

He was a little worried about Cas traveling with the weather being what it was, but he’d texted to let Dean know his plane had landed safely and that his rental car was weatherized appropriately. The drive should take about an hour in normal weather, so Dean was expecting a text somewhere between an hour and a half and two hours, letting him know Cas was about to start the short walking portion of the journey.

Ideally, Dean would’ve met him at the car on his snowmobile, but due to an unfortunate mishap, he’d lost the gas he’d brought for it and it was bang on empty. Cas was actually bringing more so that they could haul his bags to the cabin on the snowmobile, at least.

As the minutes ticked by and he ran out of things to occupy him while he waited for a text, Dean couldn’t stop his mind wandering to daydreams of how the weekend would go. He wasn’t really sure how long he’d been in love with Cas, but he’d only truly realized the extent of it when Cas had gotten his new job and moved to a different city. Not seeing him everyday was harder than Dean ever imagined it could be.

_Castiel 4:31PM: All right, I’ve made it to the parking area._

_Dean 4:31PM: Awesome! Just stick to the path and you should be here in 15-20 minutes_

_Castiel 4:32PM: I just have to grab the gasoline jug and then I’m OMW_

_Castiel 4:32PM: OMW... OMW... Dammit, Dean_

_Castiel 4:32PM: You set up another one of those auto-complete things on my satellite phone, didn’t you?_

Dean laughed out loud, pleased. He’d programmed the phone with a few things before he’d sent it to Cas in preparation for the trip. It was a necessity because they couldn’t get service out here otherwise, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a bit of fun with it, did it? He didn’t think so.

_Dean 4:33PM: Just get your ass here, Novak. I’m hungry!_

_Castiel 4:34PM: O n m y w a y. Ha! I subverted your attempt at sabotage._

Dean snorted when he read the text. He admitted he was a little proud of Cas for that. Not that he would tell Cas as much, of course.

_Dean 4:34PM: Weirdo! Hurry up! =P_

Dean had stoked up the fire to get it ready for making dinner, and it was probably just about the right time to throw the cast iron skillet in there to heat it. That way, once they got Cas’s things back to the cabin, he could pop the steaks and peppers in there and they would cook fairly quickly. He also needed to shove the foil-wrapped potatoes in the coals, if he wanted them to be baked in time.

He got all that done and also hung the kettle to boil water for coffee, cocoa or maybe hot toddies, whatever Cas decided he was in the mood for. Dean considered starting to get dressed, but he figured it was better to wait for Cas to get there. He might want a few minutes to rest before they went back out and Dean didn’t want to sweat and risk hypothermia.

He did decide to go ahead and swap back to his boots, since that took a good couple of minutes to do and he had no other tasks to occupy him at the moment. When that was done, he pulled out his phone to check the time.

_4:51PM_

Dean’s heart started to pound. Any minute now, Cas was going to knock on that door. He shouldn’t be this nervous—especially since he had many reasons to believe that Cas didn’t reciprocate his feelings—but he found he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

He waited, refusing to check his phone again yet. He got up to pace instead, knowing it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. Cas would be here soon. If he got lost, he had the phone, so there shouldn’t be a problem.

He was just about to check the phone again anyway, when it rang in his hand.

“Hey, man, you need a trail of breadcrumbs or something?”

“Uhh... I’m gonna go with no?”

“Sam? Hey, dude, sorry. I was expecting Cas so I didn’t check the ID.”

“Gotcha. This is the week, huh?”

Dean could hear the smug smile forming on his brother’s face.

“You think maybe you’re gonna grow a pair and tell him how you feel?” his far-too-astute younger brother asked.

“That’s sexist, Sam.” Maybe that would derail him long enough for them to get around to the point of Sam’s call.

“Actually, I didn’t specify a pair of what, did I? I could just as easily have meant ovaries... or breasts. You don’t know. You’re making biased assumptions.”

Dean huffed. “I supposed that’s true. Strapping a couple pounds of extra weight to my chest probably would toughen me up, huh?”

“Ew, Dean. That is not an image I needed.”

“What?” Dean asked innocently, sensing a diversion that would work. “Me with boobs? Big, voluptous, bouncy—”

“Gross! Stop! God, you’re a child.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to grow breasts, Sammy. Which of us is the child now?” It was Dean’s turn for a smug smile, knowing he had won this round.

It was confirmed when Sam sighed. “Well, listen, you got a minute? I actually did call you for a reason other than to be traumatized.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

Sam had an engineering question, which Dean was always more than happy to help him out with. Whenever Dean needed an obscure fact, Sam helped him. It was a nice quid pro quo they shared. Finally, after Dean tried once more to scar his brother for life—”Double D’s, Sam-o, whaddya think, huh?”—Sam let him go, with assurances that Dean was “gross,” “immature,” and “the worst brother, ever.” Dean took that as a sign that he was getting better at messing with Sam’s head.

Dean hung up in a good mood, but then he noticed the clock on the phone.

_5:18PM_

Dammit, Cas should definitely have gotten there by now. Dean dialed his number. He paced, panic increasing exponentially with each unanswered ring of Cas’s phone. When voicemail picked up, Dean tossed the phone down and got himself dressed in record time. He grabbed the phone and stopped outside to snatch the sled, just in case Cas was injured.

“Fuck, I shoulda just brought this and met him in the first place. Way to suck at everything, Winchester.”

He was really working on his positive self-talk, the way Cas had tried to teach him, but right now being pissed at himself was infinitely easier than worrying about Cas and why he might not have arrived or be answering his phone. Animal attacks were rare out here, but they theoretically _could_ happen.

Dean stopped himself from imagining all the potential scenarios that might have occurred and concentrated on finding his friend.

“Cas?” he called into the woods ahead of him. There was no response.

He continued calling out to Cas as he walked, hoping he’d reach a spot where Cas could hear him and answer back. The longer he walked without hearing Cas’s voice, the more scared he became. He knew running was a stupid idea, but his instinct told him to anyway. To rush, to get to Cas as fast as possible. Hypothermia from getting hot enough to sweat was a real risk, however. He could walk fast, but running was just not in the cards.

He wasn’t more than five or six minutes from the parking area when he spotted something blue lying on the ground ahead. He was several feet further on his way before he realized it was a ski vest—or that that vest was being worn by Cas.

“ _Cas_?!” he called sharply, running the few feet to kneel by his fallen friend.

### ♥

Cas was lying on his side, next to a tree, his head facing toward the direction he’d been coming from. When Dean got close, he could see a nasty purple lump had formed on Cas’s forehead. That was actually good, he knew, if the swelling was on the outside. Still, he also knew getting knocked out wasn’t as easy in real life as it was in the movies, so it had to have been a hard hit. Then he looked around to see how Cas might have hit his head. He noticed a branch that was probably about the right height.

He wasn’t sure why Cas was off the path far enough to hit the branch, but if it had knocked his head around enough, that went further toward explaining the knock out. Just like a boxer getting punched, he figured. _Dammit._

He tried to wake Cas, but it was no use. He was out cold. When Dean felt Cas’s skin, he realized that cold was far more accurate than he’d like it to be. Cas was far too cold. Dean needed to get him to the cabin and fast.

Dean peeled off his coat and wrapped it around Cas, then carefully loaded Cas onto the sled. He was chilly, but he was going to heat up quick towing a grown man all that distance. Not having that extra layer should actually keep him from breaking a sweat. Since he was headed back inside hypothermia wasn’t such a concern for him, but since it was for Cas right now, he intended to break land speed records getting back to the cabin.

The trip back to the cabin was more or less a blur. He had the gasoline jug in one hand—he’d found it lying a yard or so away from Cas, thankfully not spilled—and the lead for the sled in the other. He knew he quite nearly ran, but was careful of the terrain. The trail was fairly smooth, but he checked his footing anyway. He couldn’t risk an injury himself.

Finally, he was back at the cabin. Cas still wasn’t awake, but he was shivering. Dean more or less yanked him inside. He was grateful that he’d stoked the fire before Sam had called. Since he’d exerted himself, the temperature was really too high for him to be comfortable, but he knew it was perfect for Cas.

Dean briefly considered a warm bath, but he knew heating the water would take too long and with Cas so cold, the potential for burning him was too great. Instead, he took the pan from the fire and used it like an old timey bed warmer. He pulled off his boots and socks while he gave it a minute to do its work, then moved it down to the foot of the bed.

Hurriedly, ignoring his baser instincts, and refusing to allow himself to gawk, Dean stripped Cas down to his boxers. Once that was done, he returned the pan to the fire and got Cas into the bed, under a veritable mountain of blankets. Dean peeled off the rest of his own clothes and crawled in right behind him.

Fuck, Cas was freezing to the touch. It wasn’t pleasant—certainly not at all how he’d imagined spooning Cas for the first time would be—but he snuggled up close against him, “nut to butt” as they said in that Navy SEALS movie. He hesitated, but wrapped his arms around him too. The lower arm was a little uncomfortable, but once he got it situated under Cas’s neck, it was better.

He rubbed his hand over Cas’s chest and stomach to try and get the blood flowing. His skin was so icy that Dean didn’t even have to ignore any arousal—he was too steeped in fear. What if he never got to tell Cas how he felt?

After what could only have been a few minutes, but felt like hours and hours, Dean could tell that Cas’s body was starting to warm up. He continued massaging Cas’s torso and stayed right up against him, occasionally shifting to transfer the warmth to a new location. He rubbed all down Cas’s side too, over his hip and thigh.

As Cas’s body heat began to return, and his skin began to warm again, their position began to become more uncomfortable for Dean. He wasn’t allowing himself to entertain the idea that Cas might not be okay. And his body, which had craved Cas for so long, was throwing a party at being finally able to touch, now that it was clear the worst was passing.

It didn’t help that the warmer he got, the more Cas’s natural scent began to waft up, along with that soap he always used and the shampoo that made Dean want to spend a week just inhaling the smell of his hair. He let himself indulge in a deep inhale.

“Dean?”

Cas’s voice was raspier than normal and very faint. Dean froze all the same.

“Hey, Cas! You okay, man? You scared me!”

“My head hurts... why are we in bed? Am I dreaming again?” He sounded a little loopy and barely there.

“You bumped your head, man. Knocked yourself out and then you were on the ground in the snow for a long time. I had to warm you up.” Dean felt himself blushing, even though everything he said was the truth.

“Oh.”

Before Dean could process what was happening, Cas was turning around. He wrapped his arms around Dean and snuggled up tight again. Dean was barely breathing.

“M’front’s cold too, Dean,” he mumbled against Dean’s neck.

“Oh. O-okay. Um, sure.” He wrapped his arms around Cas again, willing his body not to betray him.

No such luck. He soon felt his erection rising and worse, brushing up against Cas. _Shit_.

“Mmmm,” Cas murmured, gently rolling his hips to rub his erection against Dean’s.

Dean had no time to react, however, before Cas was jerking backwards and away.

“Sorry, Dean, I’m so sorry, I didn’t... the proximity and just...” Cas’s blue eyes looked terrified, like he thought Dean was going to reject him utterly, years of friendship be damned.

Dean took a deep breath. This wasn’t how he’d intended to start this conversation, but what the hell?

“Uh, in case you didn’t realize, Cas,” he said, scooting close enough to roll his hips again. “I’m in the same boat.” He watched Cas swallow. “The situation is far from ideal, but the, uh, “proximity” is something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

“Y-you have? You too, I mean?”

Dean nodded.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Cas shifted forward and winced. “Do you have aspirin? My head really hurts.” He looked apologetic.

“Yeah, man, of course, sorry. Look, let me get you some aspirin and I’ll get some food ready while you rest up a little more, all right? We can talk about this after you’ve eaten and gotten rid of your headache, yeah?”

Cas gave him a gummy smile. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean smiled back, happier by far than he’d been since the day Cas left for his new job. They still had a lot to talk about. It wasn’t everything he wanted yet. Cas still lived far away. But Cas returned at least some of his feelings. For now, that was more than enough.

_~fin?~_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me+U=♥


	18. Bartender AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's a bartender and Cas needs whiskey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Guys, I'm sorry to tell you that as long as it has taken me to get this posted, I'm just not going to be able to add more to the other one tonight. :( I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed, and I am too. I did get more written and it will hopefully be done early tomorrow. I had planned to say this already, so don't think this is me trying to make up for not posting more of the cliffhanger, but:~~
> 
> I just want you guys to know that waking up to all the notifications from your comments made my morning and reading all your comments lately has pretty much been the highlight of most of my days. My stories couldn't exist without you and so I give you all the hugs and kittens :) And this particular trope is dedicated to one of the first people who went from commenter to friend, the incomparable [SongFlightGirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/songflightgirl).
> 
> [I've done this trope before too](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1304185)  
> ♥

The weather had turned nasty on Castiel’s walk from his office building. A perfect “cherry on the shit sundae” his day had been. _You sound like Gabriel_ , he chastised himself. He yanked open the door to the bar with more force than was strictly necessary and then stopped. He sighed heavily, not wanting to take his mood out on the employees of the bar, and forced himself to relax his shoulders.

Dean was wiping out a glass when he heard the chime. He watched the scowl on the man’s face sort of _give way_ to something closer to resignation. He went from looking like he was gonna smite the population of the bar—which was pretty sparse, considering the weather—to looking like he needed a hug and maybe a kitten to pet.

Cas settled on the closest bar stool, noting the low customer count of the bar gratefully. He wasn’t good with crowds and he’d chosen this bar because it rarely looked too busy on a week night like this. He didn’t think he could have handled an extreme social anxiety flare up on top of everything else that had happened.

“So what’ll it be?” Dean asked, sliding a coaster and a napkin in front of the new—and kinda hot—customer. When the guy took off his coat and suit jacket and set them on the stool next to him, Dean noted that his arms were toned enough to fill out his sleeves nicely.

“Would it be possible to have nine of everything?” Cas asked, looking balefully at the very attractive bartender. At least the view would be pleasant.

Dean laughed. “’Fraid not, cowboy.” _Whoa, that voice._

“Yee-haw,” Cas replied without inflection. Then he allowed his mouth to curl up at the corner. “In that case, I’ll have a whiskey, neat. Make it a double, please.”

“You got it. Any particular brand?” Dean grabbed a glass and headed for the whiskey section, vaguely gesturing at their ample selection.

Cas flapped his hand. “Something that I can’t use to strip paint but won’t strip my wallet, either.”

“One Maker’s Mark, coming up.” As Dean poured the drink, he watched the customer surreptitiously. He had his head bent over into his hand and was massaging his neck. Must have had one hell of a bad day. He walked the drink back over and set it down, plopping a cherry in at the last minute. “Here you go, double whiskey, neat.”

Cas looked up and caught the man’s amused expression. When he looked down at the fruit in his drink, he picked it up by the stem with a smirk. “Is this a standard garnish for a neat whiskey?”

“Well, you just looked so down, I thought it might cheer you up if I gave you my cherry,” Dean replied, winking and grinning.

Cas, not always great at social cues and knowing when a man was joking versus flirting, did the first thing he could think of in response. He popped the cherry into his mouth and slowly sucked it off the stem, while staring the bartender in the eye. The bartender turned about the same color as the cherry, but that didn’t really tell Cas if he was interested.

“Well, yeah, that’s—” Dean cleared his throat to return his voice to its normal octave, instead of the soprano range it was trying to reach. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve seen this week.” He laughed and rubbed behind his ear. “Can’t wait to see what you can do with the stem.” Then he turned and walked to the other end of the bar, thrown off by the guy’s blatant response, and pretended to be very busy. It was only once he got there that he realized he hadn’t asked if the guy wanted to start a tab.

Cas frowned after the bartender as he made his hasty exit. With a sigh, he sipped his drink. The burning liquid soothed him almost immediately, warmth spreading down into his stomach with a calming effect. He took another, larger swallow, then spied the stem still in his hand. He cocked an eyebrow, looking down to where the bartender was pretending to work. Then he popped the stem into his mouth and proceeded to tie it into a knot. The result rather looked like a heart shot through with an arrow and he was pleased with that. He set it down on the napkin and continued to sip his drink.

Dean squatted down to try and reach a box of napkins that had fallen behind the other things on the bottom shelf. He heard the door jingle and then Charlie boomed, “Yo, Winchester! Where are ya?” Dean jerked in surprise, banging his head on the bottom of the bar. As he stood up, hand pressed to the knot that was no doubt forming, he saw that the hot guy was looking unsettled by Charlie as well. Those pretty blue eyes were wide and slightly terrified looking.

Cas jumped so hard at the voice behind him that he nearly fell from his seat. He whirled around to look at the source of the noise and was greeted with a sheepish smile and small wave from a tall, waifish redhead. He gave her a small smile that he hoped was friendly and then turned back away, trying to regain his breath. _So much for avoiding anxiety flare ups_.

“Hey, Red! What’s shakin’, beautiful? Come give me a hug.” Charlie walked up and leaned over the bar to throw her arms around his neck. He kissed her on the cheek and then she settled back onto a stool. “You drinkin’?”

“Nah,” the redhead said. “I just came by to see my favorite hot bartender before Gilda and I meet Dorothy for dinner.” Cas chewed his lip. She and the bartender seemed close, but he didn’t think she was a girlfriend. “Bet you’re sad to be missing all that hot lesbian action,” she said with a grin, which just confused Cas even further.

Dean snorted. “Oh, yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Which one of you is the hot one again?”

The redhead yelled, “Dean!” and punched his arm. _So his name is Dean._

“I’m just playing, kid. Anyway, not my fault I gotta work.” In truth, he just wasn’t a fan of Dorothy. Even if he was sort of a friend of Dorothy.  _Acquaintance of Dorothy_ ? he wondered with a purse of his lips.

Cas continued to watch them interact as she forgave him for his teasing and hugged him goodbye. He still didn’t know if Dean was interested in him, but he was certainly pretty to look at. He hastily dropped his gaze as Dean turned and headed his way once more.

“Man, that Charlie is something else.” Dean chuckled and shook his head. “So, uh, did you wanna run a tab, or...?” His gaze caught on the cherry stem knot and he had to force himself not to imagine all the things that tongue could do.

Cas saw where Dean’s eyes traveled and smiled to himself. “Yes, I think I would.” He finished his whiskey in one gulp and shoved the empty toward Dean.

“All right. Same again?” Dean grabbed the glass and started walking sideways as he waited for a response.

“Double whiskey neat... with your cherry. Yes, please.” Cas said it mostly to see if he could make Dean blush again. He didn’t blush, but he did stumble slightly.

“Ha! Okay, coming up.” Dean wanted to keep flirting, he really did, but the guy made him nervous. Not in a bad way, but he seemed to keep getting flustered. He hadn’t felt this level of attraction for a guy in a long time, if ever. There was something about those eyes.

As Dean poured his drink, Cas let his gaze rove over the bartender’s well-built form. The man really was unreasonably sexy. Unfortunately, Cas failed to realize that Dean had looked into the mirror and caught him checking him out.

“Those are some serious stem-tying skills you’ve got there, man.” Dean decided to be bold, since he’d seen the guy looking him over with avid interest. “You got a name, cowboy?”

“Cas,” he said, extending a hand for Dean to shake. Dean’s hand was warm and rougher than Cas would have expected. Cas also hadn’t anticipated the little tingles it would cause when they touched.

“Cas, huh? Well, Cas, let’s see what you can do with that stem.” Instead of walking away this time, he leaned over on the bar to watch Cas closely.

Cas liked being closer to Dean, and not only because he smelled amazing. He repeated the action with the cherry, using his teeth this time to pull it off. Then he washed the cherry down with a sip of his whiskey and put the stem on his tongue. Around five seconds later, he pulled the knot out and set it next to the other one on the napkin.

“Wow.” Watching Cas’s mouth work was... well. If he’d thought the cherry sucking thing was hot, the stem thing topped it by a mile. Especially since Cas never broke eye contact the whole time. “Um, I get off shift in about twenty minutes, but let me know if you need anything.” Why was he getting so flustered again? _Keep it together, Winchester_. “Like my phone number.” _Better._

Cas was surprised, and not least because Dean had apparently recovered his courage. “You told your friend you had to work. Surely dinner could have been postponed a few minutes to accommodate your schedule?”

Dean winced. “Yeah, I, uh, I don’t really like Charlie’s friend Dorothy? So I kinda... lied to spare their feelings.” He didn’t like lying to Charlie, but he really, _really_ didn’t want to tell her he didn’t like Dot—or have to eat dinner with her and pretend he did.

Cas smirked. “So, you’re no friend of Dorothy?” Bold was best, he figured.

“Dude, I totally made that joke in my head! I mean, I am, kinda, but still—we’re totally drift compatible, Cas.” Dean grinned and slapped the bar top.

Cas frowned. “I have no idea what that means.” Then the other part of what Dean said trickled through. “Wait, what do you mean ‘you are, kinda?’”

“Oh. Well, I’m bi, so I don’t know if that counts or not. Anyway, drift compatible. From that movie?” Dean felt his face flush again, but only a little this time.

“I’m afraid I’ve never seen that movie. I think bisexual counts as at least an acquaintance,” Cas said with a smirk.

“Dude. I thought that too! Drift. Compatible. I’m telling you.” Dean couldn’t help his grin.

“I still don’t know what that means, but I will take your word for it. I’m a full friend, in case you were wondering.” Since Dean had offered his phone number, it was probably a safe bet, but just to clarify things.

Dean leaned closer at that and dropped his voice. “Does that mean you want my number? Or you wanna come back to my place after my shift ends and _catch my drift_?” He could no more have stop his eyebrows from waggling than he could have stopped the ocean’s tide. They were a force of nature.

Cas gave Dean a flat look. “Is that a really terrible euphemism for sex?”

“Your face is a....” He trailed off under the weight of Cas’s stare and sighed. “Yeah.”

Cas grinned. “Then I accept.” He downed the whiskey in one go. “If you’ll bring me a cola, please? And then we can settle my tab.” This day had just gotten a whole lot better.

Dean smiled a slow, lazy smile. “Whatever you say, cowboy.”

If this time, Cas’s “Yee-haw” was a little breathless, well, who could blame him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pooches out lower lip* Forgive me? ♥


	19. Superhero AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Adventures of Manly Man and Green-Eyed Boy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have ALL the cheese.  
>  ~~This is the most ridiculous one yet, I swear~~  
>  Oh and yes, the cliffhanger has been completed now.

Dean Winchester was standing next to his dad at their usual lookout over the city. It was a good vantage point and they could see—since they both had supervision—a lot of dark alleys from there. From the corner of his eye, Dean saw a man about to get mugged. However, before he could tell his father, he realized the guy getting mugged was actually defending himself rather spectacularly.

“Green-Eyed Boy! Look over there! We have to help that citizen!”

Dean groaned inwardly. He didn’t know why his dad—A.K.A “Manly Man”—insisted on either the dumb nicknames or the stupid over the top speech.

Regardless, he followed his dad as he flew down into the alley where Dean had seen the mugging. The fight was over and the original attacker was running away.

“Fear not, citizen! Manly Man will capture that ne’er-do-well and bring him to justice!”

“Actually, I—” the man tried to say, but John Winchester was already gone. The man sighed. “Already got my wallet back,” he muttered. Then he realized Dean was still standing there.

“Sorry abo—”

“Here you are, you poor hapless victim! I have retrieved your wallet from this villain!”

“That’s not my—”

“There is no need to thank me, sir! I am just doing my duty! Return to our lookout, Green-Eyed Boy! We are no doubt needed elsewhere after I dispose of this vermin!” With that, Dean’s dad flew away again.

Dean and the man stood staring at each other for a moment. Dean rubbed his neck self-consciously.

“Sorry about him. He means well, but he’s... overzealous.” Dean didn’t know why he was apologizing to this man, but there was something about the way he’d handled his attacker, about the blue shade of his eyes, that drew Dean to him.

“This isn’t my wallet,” the man explained with a frown. He flipped it open. “I actually think it belonged to the mugger.”

“How do you know?”

The man pulled out a card and flipped it around. “The license has his picture on it.”

“Holy shit. My dad mugged a mugger.”

The blue eyed man snickered. “I suppose he did, at that.”

“Um, my name is Dean.”

“Castiel.”

“Cool. Um, so, sorry again. It was... it was pretty awesome how you handled yourself back there. I saw the whole thing before Dad made us fly down here. You were great.” He shrugged. “You want me to take the wallet off your hands?”

“What will you do with it?”

“Mail it back to the address on the license, I guess.”

Castiel nodded. “All right.” He chewed his lip. “I suppose I’m keeping you from crime-fighting.”

“Not really. Despite what he said, it’s going to take him hours down at the station and he gets pissed if I help people without him.”

“In that case... would you like to get coffee with me?”

“I, um, that is....”

“It’s all right if you’d rather not, Dean. I simply find you very attractive and thought you might feel the same. If not, that’s perfectly okay and I will take my leave.”

“Um, no, no, I, um, I do, actually.” Dean hoped the dim alley light would hide his blush.

Castiel smiled at him with his whole face and Dean felt parts of his insides melt. “In that case, I know a good place nearby. They have excellent coffee and very good pie.”

“I love pie!”

Castiel smiled even wider. “Me too.”

Conversation came easily to them over the next few hours. Castiel soon became Cas and the flirting increased by leaps and bounds with each passing quarter hour. Before Dean knew what hit him—KAPOW!—Cas was propositioning him.

“So, Dean, I really like how your costume looks.”

“You do?”

“Yes, but I think that it would look even better crumpled up on my bedroom floor, don’t you?”

Dean nodded vigorously.

“I’ll get us a cab, “Cas said, smiling again.

Dean snorted. “Dude. I can _fly_ us there.”

Cas’s eyes went black when they dilated. “Check, please!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses. ♥


	20. Office Romance AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is working in the mailroom. Castiel is uppermiddle management. That might all be about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED 10/31/15: Complete! And very smutty.  
>  ~~Who wants another cliffhanger, huh?? *pretends to see a sea of hands* **AWESOME!!** I'm so sorry... and sleepy. Mostly sleepy, tbh (♥ U tho) UPDATED (still incomplete)! 10/30/2014: Scroll to double underline; assuming I've done it properly, hover over the Latin for the translation.~~

When the economy tanked, Dean had lost his corporate job. That’s why, at thirty, he was having to start over in the mail room of a new company. Too many people with his skill set had been put out of work, and the market was vicious. Getting a position when you didn’t know someone was virtually impossible—unless you were willing to take a serious pay cut. Even dropping down a level or two didn’t guarantee you’d be able to find anything.

Dean, desperate to start bringing in some new cash flow before his meager savings ran out, decided to go for entry level. He was still living with Sam for now, and he could easily work his way back up. He was good enough and people generally liked him. He wasn’t great at interviews, where he tended to choke, but he was great during day to day interactions. He could take his time and ease into gaining people’s trust and impressing them with his work ethic. If there was one thing Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was work hard.

He’d been there about a week when his mail cart took him into the office of one Castiel A. DeLourde. Dean wasn’t sure what DeLourde did, exactly, but he’d heard whispers about how ruthless he could be. Dean wasn’t intimidated, exactly, but he certainly hoped to make a good impression. Dean hoped to work on his floor one day, with the rest of middle management—although Castiel seemed to be above that level, but had somehow been left with the underlings.

Dean felt his heart rate increase as the cart rolled ever closer to the office of DeLourde. He took a deep breath and let it out through his lips before he knocked lightly on the frame of the open door. DeLourde didn’t even look up, just continued writing with his right hand while making a methodical “come in” gesture with the fingers of his upturned left hand.

“Afternoon, Mr. DeLourde, I have a package I need you to sign for,” Dean said, pleased with how steady his voice sounded.

Then Castiel looked up and _holy shit_ , no one had prepared him for that intense blue gaze.

“Of course...?”

“Dean, sir. Dean Winchester.” Dean tried very hard not to notice just how well the man behind the desk filled out his ivory button down shirt or how chiseled his jaw was.

Castiel continued to stare right back at him for a moment. “Mr. Winchester, if you don’t mind my saying, you seem a little older than our usual mail room staff.”

“Yes, sir. I was actually in a position perhaps a level or two below your own with a different company for a few years, but with the economy being what it is....” Dean let his voice trail off as he handed over the signature form and a pen.

DeLourde looked thoughtful for a moment.“Tell me.” He took the page and signed it with a flourish, then handed it back. “What do you know about EBITDA and how it relates to fiscal growth?

Dean rattled off facts and examples for a minute or so until Castiel held up a hand to stop him.

“You’re certainly knowledgeable. Tell you what. Can you meet me back here after five PM? I have a little... project I’d like your assistance with.”

“Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Excellent.”

Dean handed over the package and then walked out and wheeled his cart further down the hallway. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he felt like he’d passed some kind of test. Maybe he could move up sooner than he thought? Time alone would tell, he supposed. He threw himself back into work mode and tried not to think about how hot Castiel DeLourde was—or how terrifying the rest of the mail room staff seemed to find him.

When five o’clock rolled around, Dean hurried to clock out and get up to the third floor. Catching the elevator just right, he managed to make it to DeLourde’s office by five-oh-three. He was doing his best not to pant, but he was there.

“Ah, Dean, please come inside and close the door.”

Dean did, only just now realizing the room had no window into the hallway like the other offices he’d visited on this floor.

“Have a seat.” Castiel gestured at the two chairs across from his own. “I have two reasons for asking you here this evening, Dean and I want to make it clear that the reasons are entirely unrelated.”

Dean frowned, not knowing what to make of anything yet. “Uh, okay.”

“In other words, the first is not in any way contingent upon the second. You may accept one or both or neither, without any repercussions or hard feelings, all right?”

“Sure, I guess.” Dean’s frown only deepened, though. “How about you explain what we’re doing here and go from there, Mr. DeLourde?” Dean cringed a little at how combative his tone might have come across, but he was nervous.

Castiel stared at him for a long moment, saying nothing, which only made his nerves increase.

“Very well. As you may or may not know, I have somewhat of a reputation around here. It’s why I am on this floor instead of the fifth floor where I actually belong, and why I am in the least desirable office, even though some of the people who report directly to me have better ones.”

“I haven’t heard anything, sir,” Dean lied.

“Nevertheless, I have trouble getting along with people. I take things very literally and I don’t tolerate fools or cutting corners. If I don’t like something, I won’t hesitate to say so, which often makes me come across as insensitive.” He shrugged. “It’s not that I enjoy upsetting people, I’m just often so surprised by the things they choose to be offended by.”

“Fair enough.” Dean wasn’t sure what else to say or where the hell this strange conversation was going, but he assumed there might be something good in it for him if he stayed to listen, so he did.

“Because I am considered so unpleasant, I can’t seem to keep a partner for the project I’m on. People keep leaving because they can’t stand to work with me.”

At this, Dean thought he saw a flicker of hurt, but it was gone before Dean could really be sure.

“So, the first reason I have asked you here is because I would like you to work with me on the project. You have the know-how—or I believe you are smart enough for me to teach it to you. You also managed to interact with me in a manner I found pleasant, and without my offending you.”

“Yes! I mean, I would love to, thank you for the offer. Um, what sort of salary are we talking about?”

“That part you will have to discuss with HR tomorrow, but I believe it should be quite a substantial raise from what you are making now.”

They hashed out a few more details and then DeLourde surprised Dean by getting up and sitting in the chair next to Dean. He turned so that his knees were nearly touching Dean and he leaned forward, bringing that azure gaze a little closer than Dean was sure he could handle.

“Dean, the other reason I’ve asked you here is because I find you very sexually attractive and if you are amenable, I would very much like to have sex with you.”

Dean gaped for a moment, unable to remember a single word of English.

He stared into those blue eyes for a beat or two before he finally got his language skills functioning again. “Um... wow, I wasn’t expecting _that_.”

“Is that a no?” Castiel sat back and moved his knees away from Dean’s.

“No!” Dean said, putting a hand on DeLourde’s bicep. “No, it’s not a no. It’s a....” Dean blew out a breath. “It’s just that I really need this job. And I know you said it wouldn’t effect the job offer, but I don’t want it to interfere with our working relationship.”

“Ah. Well, I can understand your concern, certainly. However, I can assure you that I would never let our personal relationship interfere with our working relationship—or vice versa. I am very good at compartmentalizing.” He moved closer again, reaching over to stroke Dean’s fingers where they still rested on his arm.

Dean swallowed hard. “Uh... that’s, uh, good, but I’m not so sure that I am.” The longer those fingers touched his, though, the more difficult he found it to say no as he’d intended. “But I guess we could give it a try and see how it goes.” He laughed nervously. “I mean, it could be terrible right?”

Castiel’s eyes flicked over him from head to toe. “No.” The gaze he leveled at Dean was challenging.

“O-okay, so where do you want to, uh, do this thing?”

“I see nothing wrong with right here.” He stood abruptly and locked the door. “Unless you have some objection?”

Dean shook his head.

“Good.” He sat back down. “Now, how do you feel about light BDSM? Nothing too strenuous, I just feel better in new sexual situations when I can be in control. If you’re uncomfortable with that....”

“No, actually, um, I prefer not making the decisions in new sexual situations, heh. Um, I’m not into pain or bondage, though. No name-calling, either. Taking orders, though, maybe being manhandled a little... I’m okay with that.”

Then Dean saw something he’d been led to believe didn’t exist. Castiel DeLourde _smiled._ Smiled at _him_ , no less.

“You should choose a safeword, in case I get too rough. Our definitions of manhandling could be very different.”

“Yeah, okay, um, how about _Tardo_ for slow down and _Desisto_ for stop?”

Castiel’s gaze was piercing. “You speak Latin?”

Dean shrugged. “A little.”

“Mm, _venustus_ ,” Castiel said, his deep voice going even lower for the second word.

Dean could feel the blush spread across his skin. “Oh, thanks, you too, uh, Mis—”

“Castiel. Please. When we aren’t working, call me Castiel.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Dean said, shoulders slumping slightly.

Castiel chuckled. “If you’re ready, please stand up and undress.”

Dean grimaced.

“Is there a problem?”

### ♥

Castiel didn’t seem angry, just confused and maybe concerned.

“Could I leave my shirt on?

Castiel frowned. “Are you... are you uncomfortable because you are disfigured in some way?”

Dean considered saying yes. Technically, it was the truth, but he knew that’s not what Castiel meant. He didn’t have scars or anything like that. He blew out a breath and shook his head no.

“Surely you’re not embarrassed about your looks, it’s obvious how muscular you are. Is... is it an emotional issue? You don’t feel safe enough to take off your shirt with me?”

This never happened with one night stands. Everything happened so fast during hookups that his leaving his shirt on wasn’t a big deal, or it was too dark for them to see, or they weren’t interested in him enough to be bothered by... _It_.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, definite concern in his voice now.

“It’s not that, either.” He couldn’t look at those blue eyes right now.

“Dean, if you want to leave your shirt on, I won’t force you to take it off, but I wish you would reconsider. I would very much like to touch every part of you and there is so much I can’t do if there is clothing between us.”

Without looking at him, Dean started to unbutton his shirt, but Cas put out a hand and made him stop.

“Dean. I would much rather you explain the situation to me than remove your shirt when you clearly don’t want to do so.”

“It’s so dumb, Castiel. You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Dean took a deep breath and spit it out quickly. “I have a tattoo.”

The adorable frown on Castiel’s face was almost worth the humiliation.

“I got it a few years ago. It’s of... someone I used to date. N-naked. On-on my arm.” He covered his face with his hands and wiped them up and down a few times, hoping this would all blow over.

“You have another person’s body tattooed on your arm?”

“I was drunk, man—”

“You said you’ve had it for years. Why is it still there and not at least covered up with a new design? Have you been drunk every day since?” Castiel raised an imperious eyebrow.

Dean stared for a second. “Is there an answer to that question you’re going to like?”

“No.”

“I thought she was the one, okay?” Dean groaned. “It was dumb, I know. I’d been planning to get inked anyway and then she was starting to balk because I hadn’t made a commitment and I thought she might be the one, but my parents’ divorce really did a number on me and... We’d had a fight and I got drunk and stumbled into an all night tattoo parlor and....”

“She didn’t like the tattoo, I take it.”

Dean didn’t look to see if the smirk he thought he could hear was actually visible on Castiel’s face.

“She hated it. We broke up a few months later. I kept it as punishment and, like, I don’t know. A reminder not to get serious again. Then I started going out again and people would get so pissed when they saw it. I started keeping it covered.”

Cas reached out and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean finally looked up and was shocked to see the look in those blue eyes was... kindness.

“Dean, I really don’t care that you have a tattoo. Was it a foolish decision? Possibly. Probably. However, it was not _my_ decision to make and you’ve clearly been paying for it for a long time.” Castiel stepped closer and put his other hand on the next button of Dean’s shirt. “May I remove this?”

Dean swallowed and nodded, not quite able to speak.

Castiel slowly and methodically unbuttoned Dean’s shirt and cuffs, then stared him in the eyes as he pushed the fabric down Dean’s arms and off. Only once it was on the floor did he turn his attention to Dean’s arm. He looked at Dean’s blank right arm first, then shifted his gaze to the left—and immediately burst out laughing.

“Gee, thanks,” Dean huffed, jerking away as a blush spread across his face.

“I’m sorry. It’s not that bad, really. It suits you, actually.”

It was Dean’s turn to frown in confusion. “How do you figure?”

“Well, it seems brash on the surface—naked woman, cowboy hat? But when you look, you realize the way you had her drawn, so that nothing is really exposed, the way she almost seems to have wings... well, considering what it is, it’s actually tasteful and respectful and shows a great deal of care for the person, in my estimation.”

Dean stared for a moment. He couldn’t help it. Then he lunged forward and pulled Castiel’s mouth to his. Castiel remained frozen for a second, but then he was kissing back, just as greedy and hungry as Dean. It was some time before they came up for air and Castiel had lost a few of his own articles of clothing by then too.

By unspoken agreement, they both stripped down as quickly as humanly possible. Then it was just the two of them, naked and standing in the middle of Castiel’s office. Dean had a sudden realization and almost panicked.

“Shit, I don’t have anything. No lube or—”

“It’s fine, Dean. It’s taken care of.”

Dean felt cold sweep through him at the idea he might be one of many. “You keep lube and condoms in your office?” He tried to laugh, but to his own ears it sounded incredibly fake. “You do this a lot, then?”

“Try to seduce the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen? No, this is a new experience.”

“Sleep with coworkers, Cas.”

Dean didn’t like how needy he sounded, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The guy had caught him off guard by seeing things in the tattoo that not even Anna had seen—and he’d told her to look for them.

“I’ve never done this before, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes were soft and sincere. “I’ve never even been tempted. After I saw you this morning, I took the liberty of picking up some supplies from the drugstore during my lunch break. Just in case.”

Relief was like a drug, spreading a kind of euphoria through Dean’s body.

“Are you still okay with my being in charge?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled. “Face the wall. Hands above your head. Good.”

Without asking, Dean spread his legs and canted his hips back. He was swatted on the butt for his trouble.

“Not yet, Dean. I told you I wanted to touch every part of you. I merely intend to start with your back.” He pressed a hand on Dean’s lower back until he scooted his hips closer to the wall. “Close your eyes.”

Dean pressed his cheek against the cool paint, enjoying how it soothed the heat of his fading blush. Fingers ghosted over his other cheek, featherlight, then down his neck and across his shoulders. Castiel was apparently being literal when he talked about touching Dean everywhere. Dean didn’t think there was a single inch of the exposed top of his body that Cas missed. After a time, lips replaced fingers, retracing the same pathways.

Dean was floating in a pleasant haze when he felt the first swipe of a warm, wet tongue against his neck. Teeth nipped at the spot and then the mouth moved on. Dean had forgotten Castiel, the office and his own position against the wall. He was only currently aware of the sensations those hands and that mouth were ringing out of him. He wasn’t even aware of the soft, needy sounds he’d been making until Castiel spoke.

“You make such beautiful noises for me, Dean. Good boy.” Even Cas’s voice was a caress.

By the time Castiel had turned him around with his back against the wall, he was a blissed out mess. Dean didn’t think he’d ever felt like this before, at least not when his penis hadn’t even been allowed to join the party yet. He remained plenty hard but untouched and he was strangely okay with it.

“Open your eyes. Good. Keep them open as much as you can, okay?”

Dean’s nipples weren’t particularly an erogenous zone, more ticklish than arousing, which thankfully Cas picked up on fairly quickly. Then Castiel was dropping further and pressing wet kisses to his stomach, his hips and his thighs. Cas was on his knees then, looking up at Dean, hands stroking up and down Dean’s thighs. He pressed a single kiss to the end of Dean’s erection, flicking out his tongue to catch the fluid gathered there. Then he gave a cheeky grin and hopped up.

“Be right back!”

Dean groaned, but didn’t move. He watched, paying special attention to Cas’s lithe, athletic body. He wasn’t ripped like a body builder. Instead his body exuded strength and movement and grace in a way Dean had rarely seen outside the ballet. His ass alone was sonnet-worthy—not that Dean intended to start writing poetry to how hot the guy was, but still. He could’ve.

Castiel walked to the desk and Dean could hear the telltale rustle of a plastic bag before he raised up and walked back toward Dean, seeming surprised at Dean’s continued inspection—or perhaps merely the intensity of it. Either way, he paused, so briefly Dean might have imagined it, then continued forward with a small smile barely curling one side of his mouth and crinkling up the corners of both eyes.

He immediately dropped back to his knees and took Dean fully into his mouth without hesitation. Dean’s head fell backwards and he cried out, mindful of making too much noise, but unable to contain it. He dropped his head again so that he could watch Cas, but that just made everything ten times more intense.

Dean thought he was close already, but then Castiel prodded against his hole with a slick finger. Even though he stopped touching Dean’s cock while he worked the finger inside, Dean’s pleasure ratcheted up several notches. Then Cas stroked and stroked inside him until he found the right spot and Dean had a harder time maintaining the noise level. First he just gasped and swore, but pretty soon, he was spirally up and up and up. Then Castiel started using his mouth again and suddenly _right there_.

“Cas! Cas, I’m gonna—”

Instead of pulling off or out as Dean had expected, Castiel increased his efforts. Within seconds, Dean was spilling deep into Castiel’s mouth with breathy cries. Cas worked him through it and swallowed it all down before pulling off and wiping at his lower lip.

“So good for me.”

“Holy fuck,” Dean whispered, struggling to stay standing, since his legs were shaking.

Cas had a pleased smile on his face. He stood up slowly, running his hand up Dean’s body as he stood. Then he kissed Dean, long and deep, before pulling away and looking Dean in the eyes.

“Are you okay to keep standing or do we need to change position?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. Turn around please, and assume that position you tried to start out in. And close your eyes this time.”

Dean flipped toward the wall, legs spread slightly and ass tilted up. He expected to feel the same slick finger again, possibly two, but instead he felt both of Cas’s hands take hold of his cheeks and pull them gently wider. Then the warm, wet rasp of Castiel’s tongue was on him. His dick twitched, excited despite his very recent orgasm, but that was all it managed.

For Dean, since he’d already come and arousal wasn’t really a factor, the act was far more intimate than it had ever seemed before. Usually, it was just a quick bit of foreplay to heighten the mood, but today the mood had already come and gone and Dean was in the afterglow. So instead of being hot, being rimmed felt more like the best kind of aftercare. It just felt _so good_. He would have gladly stood their for hours, though he would eventually have felt guilty for Cas’s poor knees, which had already withstood more floor time than they should’ve.

Castiel was apparently in no hurry, either, though he did finally pull away. Dean really had no idea how long it had been, but he was reasonably sure it had been more than five minutes. A kiss landed on his ass, then another on his low back. Then Cas worked up his back with his mouth, until his hot breath was on Dean’s neck and ear.

“I could do that for hours,” he whispered hoarsely in Dean’s ear. “You’re so responsive and eager, even after an orgasm. You’re amazing.”

Dean melted under the praise, even humming a bit in pleasure. He didn’t have long to bask in it before Castiel’s fingers found their way inside him again. This time it was two of them at once. Cas kept up the work of his mouth, kissing and biting across the parts of Dean’s skin he could easily reach while his fingers worked in and out, scissoring and stretching. He took his time, not even trying for Dean’s prostate at first. Once he did start to stroke it again, it had been long enough that Dean’s erection started to return.

“So good,” Castiel breathed into his ear.

Cas gently removed his fingers and then dropped to the floor suddenly. Then Dean realized the little sounds he heard were probably the condom packet. He heard the distinct sound of lube and then Cas was standing behind him again. Cas pressed the blunt head of his cock against Dean’s hole and then paused.

“Any objections?”

“No, sir.”

Just like that, Castiel was sliding inside him. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. He felt hot and full and so hard he ached. Cas alternated his rhythm for a while between slow and deep or fast and shallow. The deep thrusts were hard ones. The shallow ones were gentle. Then Cas pulled out completely, leaving Dean whining.

“It’s okay, Dean, we’re just changing position,” Cas reassured him.

Castiel led the way to the chair behind the desk and then pulled Dean down to straddle his lap, facing him. He carefully lined up and pulled Dean down, sheathing himself fully once more. It didn’t take long to find a new rhythm, now that Dean could help more. Dean found the angle that brought Castiel’s head in contact with his prostate and then Dean rode him hard and fast toward a second orgasm.

He was afraid at first that Cas might try and stop him or make him slow down. If anything, though, he seemed pleased that Dean was taking for himself. He thrust up into Dean as Dean rocked down, over and over. Sweat gathered on both their brows and chests. Their skin was flushed and Dean reached out to touch whatever he could reach.

Then Castiel started thrusting less evenly. He took a hand off Dean’s hip and wrapped it around his cock instead and Dean was close once again.

“Come with me, Dean, now, please,” Cas commanded.

Since he’d already had one orgasm, the droplets that spread across Cas’s torso were meager, but Castiel seemed to find them fascinating nonetheless, watching them fall, rapt, as he filled the condom inside Dean at the same time.

Cas kissed Dean and then gently helped him get off of his lap. He grabbed wet wipes from a drawer, handing one to Dean and taking another for himself. They got cleaned up and dressed in silence. Dean was starting to feel vulnerable and awkward by the time he buttoned his last button. That was the best sex, ever, and he was afraid he wouldn’t get to have it again—or the job had been a lie.

“Dean,” Cas said as he retied his tie. “Report to your regular duties in the morning as usual, since I have to discuss my decision with my supervisor. When I am ready, I will send for you. Remember to address me as Mr. DeLourde during business hours.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, I’ll do that.” Dean made ready to leave, but Cas stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

Cas looked him in the eye for a long moment and then pulled him in for another kiss. This one was softer and less rushed than the others. Like the rimming, it felt intimate and like aftercare.

“Come home with me? I’d very much like you to sleep in my bed tonight.”

Dean wasn’t going to say no to that.

As they rode the elevator downstairs, Dean thought about days filled with Cas telling him what to do both in the office and out of it.

Life was definitely looking up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Complaints forms must be in triplicate and notarized by a left-handed Lithuanian and filed under a concurrent full moon and lunar eclipse in order to be considered.~~ Thank you for your thoughts. ♥


	21. Mythical Creature/Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal breakfast... well, normal for Cas and Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order a small helping of cheese with a side of schmoopy fluff? Order up!
> 
>  
> 
> ~~PS I can't guarantee that the office chapter will be _finished_ tonight, but I will update it, at least a little, shortly.~~

“Babe? Come on, I’m making breakfast!” Dean called from the kitchen doorway. Then he returned to the stove and started pouring up the pancakes onto the skillet.

“Coffee?” Cas growled.

“Good morning to you too, Cas.”

Cas sighed. “Good morning, Dean. Is there coffee?”

“Do I ever not make you coffee, grumpy Gus?” Dean handed him a full mug, black and sweet just like he liked it. “You go sit, I’ll bring everything over when these are ready.”

Cas sipped his coffee and watched him cook for another minute before doing as instructed, stopping to kiss the back of Dean’s neck before leaving to sit down.

Dean turned around and smiled at Cas’s back. He finished up with the pancakes, then grabbed the warmer of eggs, the syrup and the bowl of fruit before heading back to the table. He lamented the lack of meats, but Cas had been adamant after that new study had come out, linking processed meats like bacon and sausage to cancer.

“ _Cancer_ , Dean,” Cas had said in his there-is-no-point-in-arguing-with-me-right-now voice.

Fruit it was.

Dean set it all on the table and smiled again as he saw Cas, inhaling the scent of his coffee with closed eyes. He couldn’t resist ruffling his hair as he took a seat.

“Dig in, babe, before it gets cold.” Dean didn’t wait to start loading his own plate, knowing that, despite his warning, Cas would sniff his beverage for another minute at least.

Dean long ago stopped waiting for Cas to start eating before he ate his own food. If he did, in the mornings at least, he’d be starved and his food stone cold before he got a chance to begin. He started with his eggs, knowing they’d be the least appetizing when cold. When he’d finished them, he was finally able to tuck into his pancakes. He threw some fruit on there—just about the time Cas was finally filling his plate—to please Cas, and then poured syrup generously over the stack.

“Dean, that’s an awful lot of—”

“I gave up bacon, Cas.”

“But Dean—”

“ _Bacon_!” Dean reiterated, pointing at Cas with his fork before taking a large mouthful. Too large, really, not that he’d admit it.

Cas smirked before taking a bit of his eggs. He chewed and swallowed before glancing up and gesturing toward Dean’s chin with his fork.

“You’ve got a bit of syrup on your beard, dear.”

Dean looked down and saw the problem was actually worse than that.

“Aw, dammit, I got it in my chest fur too. Ugh. I _hate_ being sticky.”

“I don’t know,” Cas said with a smug smile. “You seem to enjoy it when _I_ make you sticky.”

Dean pointed at Cas with his finger. “Not helping!” He got up and grabbed a wet paper towel before sitting down again. “Did I get it all?”

Cas’s gaze roamed over his chest, then his neck and finally his face. He knew that whatever was making Cas look like he was holding in a laugh was not good news for him.

“What?” he asked petulantly.

“You’ve, um, you’ve got some flour on your... horns.”

“Goddammit!”

“Here,” Cas said, using his napkin to dust Dean off.

Cas stood up and got close to do it, which of course led to them kissing. Kissing led them to the bedroom. Being in the bedroom, well, Dean had to admit, he didn’t mind it leading to him being sticky. Again.

As they lay in bed, Cas rolled his head to look at Dean with fond exasperation.

“How is it that you cooking breakfast always leads to us having intercourse?”

Dean snickered. “Well, you _are_ pansexual.”

“And here I thought that just covered why I ended up in love with a faun,” Cas deadpanned.

“Wow. I can’t believe your joke was actually _worse_ than mine.”

“What? It wasn’t—”

“Seriously, Cas, you should be ashamed.”

Cas huffed and Dean relented, grinning. “I love you, Cas.”

“I love you too, _Pan_.”

Dean didn’t stop smiling. “That just makes you me-sexual.” He shrugged. “I’ll take it.”

Cas smiled back. “Me too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J'adore le fromage. Et toi aussi. ♥


	22. Stripper AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn't know his new roommate very well. Tonight, that's gonna change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, reading your comments everyday like:  
> 
> 
> The Office Romance AU is also complete! 
> 
> Happy Halloween! Or, if you don't care about such things, happy Saturday! ♥

Dean hadn’t known his roommate Cas for very long. He was a friend of Sam’s who had needed a place at the same time Dean was in need of a new roommate. He was plenty nice to look at, but Sam had made it clear he would be mad as hell if Dean hooked up with him. Dean had therefore done his best not to get too close to the guy, since the more time they spent together, the hotter the guy seemed to get.

So Dean also didn’t know his roommate Cas very _well_. Still, they’d roomed together for a couple of months now and it was a little annoying that the guy wasn’t coming to his birthday party. He and Sam had already had their brother birthday time that morning, so it would just be Dean’s other friends tonight and Cas hadn’t met them yet. Dean knew that was his own fault, but still. It sucked a little bit.

“You sure you don’t wanna come hang with us tonight? I don’t know what Benny’s got planned, but I’m sure it’s gonna be a hell of a lot of fun.”

“Thank you, no. I do hope you have a very happy birthday celebration, but I have a project due on Monday and I’m quite behind as it is.”

The apologetic smile Cas gave him seemed sincere, but Dean couldn’t help feeling a little bummed.

“All right, well, I don’t know where we’re going, but if you change your mind, you can text me and I’ll tell you where we are.” He grabbed up his keys and wallet and headed for the door. “Don’t wait up!” he called over his shoulder.

~@~

Cas hated lying to Dean, he really did. He couldn’t risk telling him the truth, though. Dean already seemed not to like him very much. It wasn’t his fault Cas had this stupid, ill-advised crush on him. Neither Sam nor Dean seemed to remember, but Cas and Dean had actually met several months prior to moving in together.

Dean had come with some girl named Anna as his date. Cas had come with Sam and his friends. When he found out—through no fault of Cas’s—that Cas had just gone through his explosive breakup with Meg, Dean had been so considerate. He and Anna had kept him company all night, telling jokes and doing shots and generally making what would otherwise have been an ordeal a very enjoyable experience.

It had been clear that Anna didn’t really care and was mostly humoring Dean. She had found somewhere else to be as quickly as possible, but Dean had stayed. He’d even made sure Cas didn’t drink too much and got safely into a cab at the end of the night.

Cas, of course, had been instantly smitten, horrible breakup or not.

When Sam had suggested Dean was looking for a roommate, Cas had been worried. Still, he’d needed a place to stay, and he liked Dean as a person, so he figured if Dean was willing, it was the best idea. The fact that Dean didn’t recognize him wasn’t that surprising. He’d still been wearing glasses then, for one thing. He wasn’t very memorable for another.

What he hadn’t expected was for Dean to avoid him like the plague. If Dean was so averse to him, why did he let Cas move into the apartment? It made no sense. Of course, Dean was always nice enough when they did speak, but they spoke so rarely, usually because Dean seemed to make an effort to run off as soon as Cas spent more than a minute or two in his presence.

It was disconcerting when Dean was so insistent about his birthday festivities, but Cas knew he had to brush him off—even if he would have loved nothing better than to spend an evening drinking and having fun with Dean and his friends. He had a commitment he couldn’t afford to break if he wanted to keep paying his rent and he also couldn’t afford for Dean to know about it.

~@~

Dean stood in the street, staring up at the sign for the bar. _Best of Both Worlds_ , it was called. Dean shook his head.

“A unisex strip club, Benny? Really?”

“Come on, brother, don’t pretend you don’t think it’s awesome as all hell!” Benny said, slapping him on the back.

Benny had a point.

“Yeah, Winchester!” Charlie chimed in. “Booze, boobs, burgers and boys? Don’t tell me that’s not your heaven right there because none of us will believe you.”

Dean grinned. “It is pretty great, huh?”

Inside, the walls were black, with various streaks of pale blue fluorescent paint artfully spread across them. To Dean it looked a little bit too much like a Dateline expose on hotel rooms, but no one was here to look at the walls, he supposed. Hell, maybe the Dateline reference was the point.

“I reserved us a table at the front!” Benny called over the thumping music.

A topless hostess in tasseled pasties led them to their table, a fox tail bouncing jauntily off her backside. Once they were seated, a chiseled man in booty shorts and a leather BDSM harness took their drink orders and promised to be back to check on them shortly. Dean’s eyes were captured by the dancers on stage for a while, a woman on one side and a man on the other. They were both his type and it was hard to know where to put his attention. Every time one would do something to hold his eye, the other one would top it.

Though he shouldn’t have been, Dean was surprised when Booty Shorts came back holding a flaming cake. Another topless woman in pasties stood beside him.

“Now, birthday boy, which one of us do you wanna lick frosting off of, hm?” the waiter asked.

“Um, is both an option?” Both employees and his friends found the question hilarious—and they hadn’t even started drinking yet.

The waiter and waitress dutifully cut small squares of cake and wiped a smear of frosting on their chests, dead center between their pecks and breast, respectively. Slightly intimidated by the man, Dean chose to lick it off the woman first, getting hoots and hollers aplenty from his friends, especially Charlie.

“Can it be my birthday too?” she called out.

“All right, big boy, I guess that makes it my turn, huh? Do your worst, stud!”

Dean took a deep breath and leaned forward, not expecting the guy to grab the back of his head and hold him in place—not that he was objecting. If anything, the hoots and hollers were louder this time. When he came up for air, he noticed Benny had disappeared. He thought it was strange, but he was too distracted by the kisses the waitstaff gave him to worry too much.

~@~

“All right, Cas, you’re up. Table seven. They ordered the Turbo Special for the man in the cowboy hat. Think you can handle it?”

Cas couldn’t help the snort. “The day I can’t handle a cowboy, you need to fire me, Bal.”

“Humble as ever, my dear. Regardless, it’s a birthday and rather a rowdy bunch, so watch out for groping, all right?”

Cas groaned. Leave it to Balthazar to bury the lead. He knew how Cas felt about parties. It was one thing when it was a group of friends out for the night, but parties—be it birthday or bachelor/ette—those always tended to be more chaotic. He was almost certain to get groped and the egging on alone was bound to give him a headache.

It didn’t help that there was a party he’d much rather be at. Still, he squared his shoulders, put on his glasses—prop ones made to look like the real ones he still wore at night—and trench coat and went out to play his part.

He approached the table from the back and spotted the hat right away. It was too dark to see much else, as it was the beginning of a new dance show, but the guy had the hat tilted low on his face. He whipped out his fake pad and pencil and prepared to do his Clark Kent pre-dance spiel.

“Excuse me,” He said, walking past the man in the cowboy hat. “I got a report of a disturbance and I came to take your statement.”

The man was looking at one of his friends, until she pointed at Cas and said, “I think he’s talking to you, birthday boy!”

Then the man turned around and though he did _not_ immediately recognize Cas, Cas knew him at once.

 _Dean_.

~@~

At first, Dean wasn’t sure what was happening. He heard someone say something in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. He’d had several shots in rapid succession a few minutes before and they were having a quick effect. Then Charlie pointed to the side and Dean looked up and became even more confused.

At first, he saw glasses like the ones that one friend of Sam’s, the cute one from that party, had worn. Then Dean realized two other things. Namely, that he was both the friend of Sam’s from the party _and_ Dean’s roommate Cas.

 _Cas was a stripper?_ Dean didn’t care, but he was surprised as hell.

He thought for a second that Cas was going to balk when Dean’s friends started demanding he dance. Then a thin blond man walked past the table, giving Cas an odd look and Cas whipped off his trench coat. He said something Dean didn’t catch, but assumed was some sort of cheesy flirtation. Then he started to dance and _holy fucking shit on a stick_.

Apparently Benny had ordered him a lap dance and not just some ordinary one. He’d gotten him some kind of deluxe number with a costume and a schtick and a quick striptease and floor show before the main event. Dean was still trying to process that this was Cas, but alcohol fueled libido said it didn’t matter who it was—they were hot as hell and Dean needed to pay attention.

So he did. Especially when Cas caught another glimpse of the blond guy and finally crawled onto Dean’s lap.

~@~

Cas knew when he saw Balthazar that he couldn’t run. If he was honest, there was a part of him that wanted to show Dean what he could do. Finally get his attention for once, when Dean couldn’t run away. Well. That wasn’t strictly true. He could run. But Cas didn’t think he would.

Now that the lights were a little brighter, Cas could see when confusion gave way to arousal on Dean’s face. He was pleased with himself. Then Bal came back to make sure he was doing everything he was meant to and he knew it was time for the lap dance itself. It was difficult to keep his arousal in check, so he didn’t even try. Customers tended to tip better when the male dancers got hard, anyway.

Still, when his erection accidentally brushed Dean’s, he could barely force himself to keep going. He was on a time limit and that was the only thing that kept him where he was. He had no obligation to stay once he was done. He wanted Dean, but he was mortified that Dean had learned his secret—and could see that Cas wanted him. Sure, Dean wanted Cas right now, but only because he was half naked and grinding around. Cas wanted Dean all the time. Fully dressed, dirty, whatever.

His timer went off and Cas drew off of Dean’s lap with a smile he was not feeling. He saluted Dean as his female friends shoved money into the straps of his g-string. Dean stared for a moment, then did the same.

“Thanks for the ride, cowboy!” Cas called before running away.

~@~

Dean’s friends didn’t allow him any time for any moping he might otherwise have considered. It was party night and they were determined not only to embrace that idea to the fullest, but also make him do the same. He let himself be entertained by their antics for the rest of the night.

Then it was time to go home.

Cas still wasn’t there when Dean arrived, but that was all right. That meant he had time to sit on the couch and sober up before Cas got there. So he made himself some coffee and—having read somewhere that it helped—did a little working out while he waited. He wasn’t sure if the pushups or the caffeine were more to thank, but soon he had a clearer head. He went through almost the whole pot of coffee and almost two episodes of Buffy on Netflix before he heard the key in the lock.

When the door opened, Cas didn’t see him at first. As soon as he noticed Dean, he startled and stared, looking terrified.

“We should talk,” Dean said, as nonchalantly as he could. He didn’t want to seem confrontational.

“Should we? What about?” Cas asked, putting his things away.

Dean could tell from the way he held himself that he was putting up a front. Why else would he be so tense?

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the guy from the party?”

“What?” Cas said, looking genuinely surprised at the question.

“Man, I had no idea. You look so different without your glasses and I just never made the connection. I should’ve, I mean, two people with eyes that blue and sex hair? Seems unlikely. Your voice was different, though.”

Cas shrugged. “I’d had laryngitis. Oddly, it makes my voice sound more high pitched and less rough for a while when it comes back.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me we’d met?”

Cas sighed and walked over to the arm chair, falling into it. “I suppose I was embarrassed. I’d been so weak that night. And if you plan to ask why I didn’t tell you about my second job, the answer is the same. Shame.”

“Dude, you have nothing to be ashamed of on either score. First of all, when Anna dumped me a few weeks later, I was way worse than you were. Second, the way you dance? It’d be a shame if you _weren’t_ making money as a stripper, to be honest.”

Dean was pleased to see a little smile come up on Cas’s face.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Then Cas frowned. “You don’t like me, though.”

“What? That’s crazy, of course I do.” Dean sighed. “It’s just... Sam made it really clear that he didn’t want us to hookup and I just... you’re really hot and I didn’t know how else to keep myself from making a move.”

“You... think I’m hot?”

“Dude, I thought you were hot the night of that party. Not to mention funny and smart. If I’d known it was you... shit, I wouldn’t have worried about making a move because I’d have known it would be more than just a hookup.” He scratched his jaw. “At least, for me, anyway.”

Dean watched in awe as Cas got up and walked toward him. With the same finesse he’d shown at the club, he straddled Dean’s lap.

“I forgot to get you a gift for your birthday,” he said huskily, turning Dean’s blood red hot.

“Oh, yeah? I hope you can think of a way to make it up to me.”

Cas smiled. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

Instead of grinding on his lap as Dean had half-expected, Cas kissed him. Dean found he liked that even better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the schmoops for all your faces ♥♥♥


	23. Genderbend AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Cass go out on their first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEMSLASH AHEAD! REPEAT: FEMSLASH AHEAD!
> 
> So, in case you missed it, I added, for the first time ever, a check mark in the f/f box. I have now written my first ever femslash. I'm pretty darned excited about it, if I'm honest.
> 
> I had a writer's critique group today and I bet they'd be surprised this was what I chose to write tonight. Could be that bad blowjob scene I subjected them to ;)

Deanna had been waiting for this day for a really long time. She and Cass had been best friends for ages, and Deanna had had feelings for Cass for nearly as long. She had finally, _finally_ , ovaried up and asked Cass on an actual date and Cass—to Deanna’s continued amazement—had said yes.

She pulled her Impala convertible up to the curb and patted his hood before running up the walk to Cass’s door. She chewed her lip as she waited for Cass to open up. As soon as she did, Deanna nearly fell off the porch.

Cass had curled her dark hair so that it lay against her shoulders in gentle waves. Deanna’s fingers itched to slide through it. She had put on a little eyeliner that really made her blue eyes pop, along with just a hint of lip gloss on her pillowy baby pink lips. Cass had chosen a short blue dress that hugged her curves and showed off her athlete’s body to great affect. Deanna felt a little underdressed in her white jeans and green butterfly top.

“You look friggin’ _amazing_ , Cass.”

Cass smiled shyly. “Thank you, D. So do you.”

Cass seemed as excited as she was, and that made something in Deanna’s chest light up. Once they were in the car and driving, however, Cass seemed to fidget more and more, until Deanna finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Girl, what is up with you?” She bit her lip and glanced over at Cass with apprehension, afraid of the answer to her next question. “Don’t you _want_ to go out with me?”

“Of course, Deanna!” Cass rushed to assure her in that smoky voice Deanna loved so well. “It’s just... there’s something I think I need to tell you. Can we pull over up here?”

“Well, we’re almost to the restaurant. How about we wait until we’re in the parking lot, okay?”

Deanna was a little worried about what had Cass so nervous, but whatever it was, they’d deal with it together. Unless of course Cass had done something shitty, in which case, that would suck. Didn’t really seem like Cass’s style, though. Deanna considered herself a pretty good judge of character.

She reached over and took Cass’s hand to reassure her. Cass gave her a grateful smile and they rode in silence to the restaurant. Deanna took her hand back to navigate into the parking lot and then found a space that was far away from the other cars, so they could have a bit of privacy for whatever Cass needed to say.

“All right, Cass, spill,” she said as she turned off the ignition. She turned in her seat to give Cass her full attention.

“I’m trans,” Cass blurted.

Deanna nodded, waiting for the follow up.

“I was assigned male at birth and I used to have a penis,” she explained unnecessarily.

“Yeah, I know. Has someone been messing with you?”

Cass looked at her like she’d grown another head. “What do you mean you know?”

“Wait, is that what you thought you had to tell me?” Deanna said, only then cluing in.

“Of course it is. How did you know?” Then she squeezed her eyes shut briefly before turning to look out the window. “Sam.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it was before I moved to San Diego, when he never really expected us to meet. I assumed you knew he had told me. I’ve literally known the whole time. I mean, I’m pan, you know that, so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, but yeah. I know.”

Deanna gave Cass a warm smile and took her hand again.

“Can we go in and eat now? I’m starving,” she said with a wink.

Cass nodded, eyes bright with unshed tears. Deanna reached over and pulled her into a hug, inhaling the soft, sweet scent of her hair.

“It’s okay, Cass. I don’t care what parts you used to have or even particularly which ones you have now.” Then Deanna pointed at her. “Unless you got tentacles down there. I am _not_ into that.”

As Deanna had hoped, Cass laughed.

“You asshole. Let’s go inside.” Cass pulled away and got out of the car.

~@~

Dinner, naturally, had gone as well as any other dinner between them. Still, there was an added undercurrent of electricity and anticipation that hadn’t existed before and Deanna was thoroughly enjoying the heightened experience.

Then it was time to pay the check and decide where to go from there. They held hands as they walked back to the car, and gave each other small smiles that spoke volumes about how much they were enjoying the evening.

“So what do you feel like doing now?” Deanna asked when they were safely back inside the car.

Cass stared into Deanna’s eyes for a long time, which wasn’t unusual. What she said when she stopped was a surprise, however.

“Take me home, D.”

“Oh. Um, you sure?”

Cass slid across the car and slipped her hand into Deanna’s dark blonde tresses, tugging her face forward slightly.

“I’m positive,” she whispered. She held Deanna’s gaze until Deanna leaned forward to close the small gap that remained between them.

Cass’s lip gloss, Deanna discovered, was strawberry flavored. Her mouth tasted like the chocolate pie and coffee with which she had finished dinner. Her lips felt like rose petals and her hair was every bit as silky as it had looked. Deanna had both hands fisted in Cass’s hair before she reluctantly pulled away.

“Still wonder if I’m sure?” Cass asked, taking Deanna’s hand and rubbing the middle finger of it against the prominent nub inside her panties.

Deanna watched in fascination as Cass used Deanna’s finger to give herself friction and pleasure that was clearly intense.

“Please, Deanna. Take me home,” she breathed, taking Deanna’s finger from between her legs and popping it into her mouth to suckle.

“Aw, fuck.”

Deanna gently extricated her hand so that she could start the car. Her clit was throbbing and she was pretty sure her pussy was both drenched and on fire. There was an ache deep in her belly and between her legs. She glanced at Cass’s beautiful mouth again and couldn’t wait to feel that gorgeous tongue and those plush lips against her engorged sex. As they waited for traffic to clear so they could merge onto the road, Deanna let her gaze roam over Cass’s lovely breasts, dreaming of what they would feel like beneath her hands.

“God, I want you so much, Cass. Have from the very first. You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“I feel the same about you, Deanna.” She scooted close and planted kisses along Deanna’s shoulder. “Gorgeous, wanted, always,” she murmured against D’s skin.

The drive to her house seemed interminable, even though realistically, Deanna knew it was only a few minutes. Still, she nearly fainted with relief when they arrived. Her whole body was tingling with desire and the space between her legs felt like if she wasn’t touched right now, she might go insane.

Somehow, they made it to the door and inside without touching, but once they were over the threshold, it was as if one were a magnet and the other metal. Lips sucked at lips and tongue swiped against tongue. Slender hands caressed over flesh and worked open zippers. Then before Deanna even knew it, they were both standing naked in her living room, breasts pressed against each other and each grinding against the thigh between her legs.

“Bedroom?” Cass managed to ask.

“Too far,” Deanna said with a shake of her head. “Rug.”

She gently led Cass over to the thick faux fur carpet in front of her fire place. With anyone else, it might have been a porno cliche, but with Cass, it was perfect. Cass deserved something soft beneath her, caressing her skin wherever Deanna herself was unable to reach. The rug was an altar on which Cass lay, ready to be worshiped.

Deanna looked at Cass in full for the first time, taking in the acres of tan skin and lean curves. Her breasts were smaller than Deanna’s, with large brown nipples. Deanna had had no idea they were pierced until now. Cass spread her legs in invitation and Deanna felt the fire between her own legs catch, igniting the ache deep in her pussy once more.

“Wanna taste you, Cass.”

But she climbed directly over Cass on all fours first. She plunged her tongue deep into Cass’s mouth, suckling at her lips and losing herself for a moment in the sensations. When she had drunk her fill, she moved across Cass’s cheek and down her neck, inhaling the heady floral scent she had enjoyed so much earlier in a more intimate way.

Slipping down so that her belly rested between Cass’s thighs, she reached out with her hands and took hold of Cass’s breasts. She cupped them and massaged them lightly, barely brushing over the nipples with the palms of her hands. Cass arched up into her, moaning. Deanna alternated between the massage and the nipple play until Cass was panting and Deanna could feel moisture against her stomach.

Taking that as her cue, Deanna slid further down, until she was face to face with Cass’s sex. She flicked her gaze up to Cass’s lust-blown eyes and then back down. She sealed her lips over Cass’s clit and alternated between sucking and licking, until Cass was a writhing mess on the floor in front of her.

“Will I need lube to use my fingers?” Deanna came up for air to ask.

“A-a bit, please,” Cass whispered. “I have some in my purse.”

Deanna wasn’t sure if the blush she saw was embarrassment or arousal, but it was cute as hell, either way. She walked on her knees over to the couch where Cass’s purse had ended up and rifled through it until she came up with the bottle of Passion.

She didn’t delay return to her post a second longer than she needed to, slicking up her fingers and going back to work with her mouth. She waited until Cass was writhing again before slipping her fingers inside, moaning slightly at the wet velvet feeling of being inside Cass for the first time.

Her fingers worked in tandem with her mouth, drawing the bow of Cass’s arousal ever tighter, until finally, it snapped. Cass’s head thrashed and then she cried out, hips jerking up off the floor as she ground her cunt toward Deanna’s face. Deanna worked her fingers deeper—even adding a third to heighten the pleasure—and sucked harder, until Cass was nearly screaming as her orgasm crashed over her in wave after wave of bliss.

When Cass finally started to come down, Deanna lightened her sucks and slowed her fingers. Then when Cass’s clit was too sensitive to be touched, D continued to work her fingers in and out gently, not yet ready to lose the glorious sensation of it.

“Can I—can I fuck you?” Cass panted. “Do you have a strap-on for that?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get it,” D said, starting to rise.

Cass’s hand on her thigh stopped her.

“No, wait. I wanna go down on you first. Straddle my face?” The question, though filthy, was delivered almost shyly.

Deanna got into position and _holy shit_. Cass plunged her tongue into Deanna’s dripping pussy with ease, filling it as much as some of the smaller cocks she’d experienced. It felt so good, almost like kneading into a sore muscle—only a thousand times better. Deanna wasn’t ashamed that she came rather quickly, tugging at Cass’s hair and riding her face like a mechanical bull.

She backed up off Cass and lay down next to her, utterly spent. Her hand found its way to Cass’s breast, which she stroked lazily. Deanna pressed a kiss to Cass’s shoulder and snuggled against her.

“You know, if it’s all the same to you, how about we save the strap-on for next time, huh? I’m pretty beat.”

Cass grinned at her. “Next time. I really like the sound of that.”

“So do I, C. So do I.”

Deanna pressed their lips together again and they kissed until they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, was it okay? I'm a little nervous that it wasn't as hot as my m/m smut. LOVE ME ♥
> 
> PS Yes, I researched it and some self-lubrication is possible as is orgasm, but lube is nearly always needed for entry.


	24. Deserted Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets washed ashore on an (almost) deserted island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated and up _graded_ to cheese with a side of COCONUT SMUT! You're welcome. A thank you for waiting, if you will. I spoil you, I really do. Eh, you're worth it.
> 
> As always, this fic is a mix of HELLA PLENTY RESEARCH (coconut oil soap, teeth sticks) and making this shit up completely (coast guard rescue procedures). Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~So, with less than a week left, what's one more cliffhanger between friends, huh? Hello? *taps mic* Is this thing on? oh, hush, you know I'm good for it~~
> 
>  
> 
> I forgot back on the office AU that part of that (the tattoo) was based on [this cheesy song](https://youtu.be/oJDI-L7v3KY), but now I've remembered.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'll finish it soon, I swear.~~

 

When Dean came to there was a crab pinching at his shirt and sand grinding into most of his skin. He was on a beach, the raft he’d managed to latch onto when his chartered fishing boat started sinking was only still bobbing in the surf because one of the ropes was tied to one of his ankles. He could tell that the skin under the rope was chafed enough that it was going to be uncomfortable and he probably wouldn’t be able to wear socks for a while.

He moved to get the crab off him and it startled immediately, running off in the other direction, heading for the water. He stood up and laughed at its antics and then sobered when he looked out to sea and realized he had no idea what had happened to the other people on board the boat with him. The storm had been sudden and nasty. He was lucky to be alive.

Heaving a sigh, he untangled the rope from his ankle and turned around—then froze as he realized there was a man standing on the beach, watching him with wide eyes. The man had long, curly dark hair and a beard that reached down to his stomach. His skin was a weathered-looking nut brown. Clearly he was an islander, but Dean wasn’t going to let him stand between him and civilization.

“Hey, I’m Dean. Is there a phone around here?”

The man peered at him in confusion and what might have been fear, but said nothing.

“Dude, look, my fishing boat sank and I floated in here last night. Can you just tell me how to get to the nearest building?”

A voice like a rusted gate opening said, “You’re really here. I’m not hallucinating?”

Dean frowned. _Great the guy was nuts too_. “Uh, yeah, I’m here. Can you tell me where a phone is?”

The man made a sound that Dean didn’t understand, until he realized he could see the man’s teeth. The bastard was _laughing_.

“No phones, I’m afraid. Deserted islands tend to be short on those.” He scratched his head. “Although, since there are two of us now, I suppose it’s no longer deserted.” He grinned again. “Hey, maybe we can repopulate the whole island. I mean, they say homosexual sex can’t result in reproduction, but I’m willing to test the theory.”

Despite how dire the situation was, Dean had to laugh.

“Just my luck, man. Stranded on a desert island with a kook who wants to jump my bones. We’re both a little too grungy at the moment, but let’s see how it plays out once I’ve got my bearings and we’ve cleaned up, huh?”

Dean patted himself down, praying he’d retained his satellite phone. He’d had it when he got on the raft, he knew, but anything at all could have happened between now and then. Finally, he found it, way down in the bottom of the middle pocket of his cargo pants. He’d been able to reach Sam from the middle of the ocean yesterday, so he knew the phone was good. Now to see if the waterproof case he’d splurged on was too.

### ♥

“What’s that?” the bearded man asked, stepping closer.

“Satellite phone. Hope it still works.” He flipped it over in his hands, examining it for leaks and cracks. “Looks okay.”

“That will get service here?” There was a mix of doubt and hope on his face.

“Yeah, um—oh, hey, what’s your name, anyway? I’m Dean.”

“Call me Cas.”

“Cool. Um, anyway, it got service out on the boat yesterday, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t here. Satellite phone and all. It’s mainly the waterproof case I’m worried about.” He took a deep breath. “Wish me luck, dude.”

Dean pressed the button and the phone’s display lit up with the Iridium logo.

“Yes!” he yelled, fist pumping the air for good measure.

Cas’s voice was trembling now. “You... can reach someone who can rescue us?”

Dean, who was already dialing Sam, said, “Yeah, if he picks up his damn—Sammy!”

“ _Dean_? Oh, my God! I got a call from the Coast Guard this morning saying your boat went down! Where are you?”

“Yeah, man, it was pretty rough. My raft took me to an little island somewhere nearby. Uninhabited. Well, almost,” he said with a glance at Cas. “Um... Did anybody else make it?”

“Um, they said the rest of them had tied their boats together, but you floated away, so you were the only one unaccounted for. God, Dean, I thought... _fuck_.” Sam’s voice clogged with emotion and Dean could hear him start to lose it.

“Hey, Sammy, hey. I’m all right, okay? I know that had to be scary, but I’m fine. Right now, though, I need you to focus, all right?”

Sam pulled himself together almost instantly at that, clearly realizing what was at stake. “Yeah, Dean, sorry. Um, I guess we track your phone, huh? Then I’ll call the Coast Guard and let ‘em know where you are.”

“Hey, yeah, do all that, but also let them know there’s two of us.”

“Two? But they said—”

“He wasn’t on the boat. He was already on the island when I got here. His name’s—”

“Castiel Novak.”

“Wait, Dean, did he say... you’re on an island with _Castiel Novak_?!”

“Um, apparently? Should that mean something to me?” He tucked the phone toward his shoulder. “You famous or something?”

Cas smirked. “Or something.”

“Holy shit. Um, tell me how to turn on the tracking for your phone?”

Sam took down the info, with a promise to call him when he had more information about when they could expect to be rescued. Sam seemed to think that the presence of Cas would help speed the process. When they hung up, Dean grinned at Cas.

“He’ll call back when he has an ETA on the rescue.”

Cas walked to a log and sat down heavily. “I’m getting rescued,” he said in a small wondering voice. “I can’t believe it.”

“Man, uh, how long have you been here?” Dean walked over and sat a few inches away. “Well, I mean, if you’ve kept track, I guess.”

“Oh, um....” Cas absently wiped at tears Dean hadn’t realized Cas had been shedding. “I used to mark off the days, but after a year, I sort of gave up.” He chewed his lip. “Let’s see. My plane went down in... 2009? I think. It’s hard to remember now.”

“Holy _fuck_ , Cas! It’s 2015, man!”

Dean was genuinely distressed by the lost time, but Cas didn’t seem to be. In fact, he shrugged when he heard the year.

“It hasn’t been the worst time of my life. The early days, maybe, but... it’s the loneliness that gets you, you know?”

Bright blue eyes looked at Dean and through him, searching his soul for compassion or maybe empathy. Dean had never been stranded on an island for six years, but somehow he knew just what Cas meant, anyway. Hadn’t he lived most of his life in a similar isolation?

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You sort of get used to it, but sometimes... you’d just give anything for a hug or another voice or the heat of somebody next to you.”

Cas looked at him with wide, sad eyes. Then suddenly his face split into a beautiful smile. “I like you, Dean. I think you might be the first person in my life to ever really understand something I was feeling.”

“How ‘bout that hug, man?” Dean asked in a gruff voice.

He held out his arms and Cas, still smiling that same beautiful smile, fell into them. Whoever Castiel Novak was, he held on to Dean like he’d been waiting for him all his life instead of just six years. Though he was unkempt, he smelled clean, like fresh air and coconuts and the sea. His beard scratched at Dean’s face as they parted.

“Was it good for you?” he asked with a wink.

“Well, I repeat my offer to try and repopulate.” The beautiful smile was replaced by a grin as he said it.

“Hey, I’m game if you are, but like I said, pretty grungy—and I don’t see any showers around here.”

Cas laughed. “Dean, it might shock you to learn that the ocean is made of water.”

Dean blushed even though that wasn’t what he meant. “I’m aware, smartass. Kinda covered in salt already, though.”

“There’s a stream you can bathe in.” He held up a hand. “Whether or not you’re serious about... being intimate.”

Dean nodded, not sure what to say, and followed where Cas led to reach the stream. There was something about Cas that he just liked. The guy was a weird mix of bold and awkward that Dean found charming and endearing. He wanted to wrap him up and snuggle Cas protectively—if only to see what an angry ruffled little bird he became when he was irritated.

“Here it is. I’ve got some rudimentary coconut soap here. There are also soap nuts, if you prefer, but I find those irritate my skin.”

Dean didn’t know what soap nuts were, but the coconut soap sounded better. Still, he was confused.

“You made soap?”

Cas shrugged. “My brother made me watch the movie Fight Club. Dreadful film, but the soap making process fascinated me. I studied the process. Easy enough to put it to practice here. Starting the fire to make the lye was the hard part.”

Dean blinked at him and then shook his head really fast, dazed. “Dude, you’re... I don’t even know if there’s a word for it.”

“I’m aware I’m not like other people,” Cas said, bristling.

Dean held up a placating hand. “Hey, hey, wait, Cas, that’s not what I....” Dean sighed heavily. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, man. I meant... you’re pretty fucking special, that’s all.”

When the scowl dropped off his face, it left Cas looking soft and vulnerable in a way that made Dean’s chest ache.

“’That’s all,’” Cas repeated, his voice barely a whisper. He laughed, but his eyes shone with tears. “Dean, you have no idea what—”

He stopped and shook his head, biting his lip over a disbelieving smile. Then he turned back and stepped up to Dean quickly, grabbing his face in both hands.

“I’ve only known you fifteen minutes. _How have you already turned my life upside down_?”

Then Cas was coming forward, Dean’s vision filling with blue eyes and facial hair and then he had to close his eyes, but _oh_. It was hard to see Cas’s lips under that beard, but they were _soft._ So soft and warm and strong and Dean wanted to curl up on them and fall asleep. Instead, he licked in between them, not really thinking about the man’s lack of access to the finer things in life, like toothpaste, until it was a done deal. Almost immediately, he pulled back.

“Wait, how do you taste like mint?” Dean asked, incredulous.

Cas rolled his eyes and huffed. “I use an orange tree chew stick to brush my teeth everyday and I chew mint leaves because I like the taste.”

Dean looked at him in shock. “Dude, how do you know all this shit? Are you some famous survival guru or something?”

“No, I am just very well read, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Can we please go back to kissing now?”

Dean pointed at him. “Yes! That is a very good id—mmph.”

This time, Cas used his tongue to part Dean’s lips and stroked across Dean’s cheekbones with his thumbs in a way that was somehow both gentle and possessive. Dean hadn’t been kissed in... well, it had been a while. And the way Cas kissed was like he wasn’t sure if it might be outlawed at any second, so he had to get every thing out of it that he could. Dean liked it a lot. They might have kept on with kissing like that, except Dean’s phone rang, shocking them apart.

“Sam! What’s the news?”

“Hey, you okay? You sound funny.”

“Yep, I’m good. I was just about to take a bath in the stream, is all.”

“Oh. Okay, well, look it’s going to be a while before they can get to you, but they’re coming as soon as they can.”

Dean groaned. “Aw, man, how long are we talking? A few days? A week? What?”

“Well, no, no, nothing like that long. They’ve actually got people just a few hours away. It’s just, they need to get a doctor to come with them and if they don’t think they can get there before dark, they’ll probably wait until first thing in the morning.”

“Oh. Wow, that’s fast. Awesome, Sam, thanks for letting me know.” He covered the phone and relayed the information to Cas.

“Well, listen, I’ll call you back when they let me know something more definite, all right?”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

They hung up and Dean stared at Cas for a moment, debating whether to go back to kissing. He decided if they did much more kissing, he’d really want to be clean, so he might as well bathe now instead. He cleared his throat.

“Guess I’m gonna take that bath now.”

“I could join you.”

“Yep, yes, that is a thing that should happen.” Dean paused in taking off his shirt as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, um, do you actually, you know, like the beard?”

Cas frowned. “Most of the time I don’t think about it, but no, not particularly. Why? In case you hadn’t noticed, the island is a little short of razors.” He smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I have a survival knife with scissors that I’d be willing to loan to anyone nice or not being a dick.”

“In that case, yes, I would like to borrow your survival knife and I promise to be nice to your dick.”

Dean snorted. “Good enough.”

He stripped down to his underwear and so did Cas, then he helped Cas cut the beard down to an inch or so from his face. It was a little uneven, but Cas would have access to a razor soon enough anyway. Without the long beard, he was actually pretty hot. Before the attraction had been more chemical than physical, but now Dean’s visual cortex was as stimulated as the rest of him.

They took off their boxers and got into the water, which was a lot cooler than Dean had expected. He didn’t have long to worry about it though because apparently being in the water turned Cas into an octopus. He was kissing Dean and caressing him all over and then he was soaping up every inch of Dean that he could reach.

“Wash me too,” he said against Dean’s lips, handing Dean the soap.

Dean gladly lathered his hands and stroked over the muscled planes of Cas’s body, front and back. Before long they were both hard and standing close was becoming more a battle for self-control than anything else, as they each tried not to rub against the other too much.

Cas broke the impasse by reaching down and taking Dean’s cock in his soapy hand. Dean started to return the favor, then had a better idea. He got them lined up and helped Cas take both their erections, so that they were frotting inside his fingers. Dean gripped them from the other side, hand partially overlapping Cas’s.

It had been too long for both of them and it was an embarrassingly short time until they were both a frenzied mess.

“Dean, I’m—”

“Yeah, me too, Cas, fuck!”

Cas grabbed the back of Dean’s neck with his free hand and hauled him back into a mind-melting kiss. Dean’s body decided that was the final straw and he came hard, cries muffled by Cas’s tongue and lips against his own. Cas followed immediately after and they gently stroked each other through the aftershocks until it was too much.

With one last chaste peck, they separated a few inches and ducked down to rinse off. Without a word, they helped each other wash their hair, then rinse it. Then they stood and stared at each other, droplets of water gathered on their eyelashes. Unable to take the unknowable something that was in Cas’s gaze, Dean reached out and pulled him into a hug. He wasn’t sure if Cas would return it, but he held on just as tightly as Dean.

Hours later, as they lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to come, Cas finally told Dean who he was.

“I was a billionaire, Dean. I’d lived my life as my parents dictated, become a self-made man and was one of the ten richest men in America before I turned twenty-five. And I. Was. Miserable.”

He smiled widely enough that Dean could see moonlight glint off his teeth.

“I crashed my plane and wound up here, with nothing except myself for company. It was better than I’d have expected. Then somehow, I managed to find something I could never have dreamed of. So I don’t regret a second.”

Dean groaned. “What did you find, like inner peace or something?”

Cas shoved his shoulder and laughed. “No, you idiot. I found _you_.”

“Oh.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Cas agreed, rolling over on top of Dean and kissing him with fevered intensity.

The rescuers may have been surprised to find them naked and entwined the next morning, but if so, they were polite enough not to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a manuscript sent off to the publishers today, so please send me ALLLLLLL your good vibes that they want to publish it (and that it will sell a lot!) Thanks in advance ;) Love me? I love you ♥


	25. Online Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean only wanted to buy a TV...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  __  
> Un peu de fromage? Oui? Tres bien.  
>   
> 
> I will try to add more to the previous chapter in just a bit, but it's not done yet, my sweeties. 
> 
> I can't believe there's just a few days left of this! 
> 
> I know this doesn't exactly fit the online relationship prompt, but I've actually [done that](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00VN2TFUU/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00VN2TFUU&linkCode=as2&tag=jamdeawri-20&linkId=CTQA7C6RCCLFLKEO) before - including one time that I haven't posted yet.

 

It started innocently enough. Dean had been looking for help deciding between two different televisions so when the “Would you like to chat with one of our sales representatives?” window popped up, Dean clicked yes. The chat window opened and he was informed that Sales Associate Castiel would be joining him shortly, to assist him with “all his needs.”

_Dean: Ha, that makes it sound kinda dirty._

_Dean: Sorry. That’s probably really inappropriate._

_Castiel: Hi, my name is Castiel and it will be my pleasure to service you today :) (It’s fine)_

_Castiel: What can I help you with, Dean?_

_Dean: Ha. :) Um, well, I’m looking at these two TVs and I don’t really know how to tell the difference. I mean, I can see that they have different specs, but..._

_Castiel: You don’t know what the specs mean, so you don’t know what’s important? I can certainly help you with that._

Sales Associate Castiel went into a lengthy explanation of pixels, LCD versus LED versus Plasma and a bunch of other specifications. Dean was going back and forth between the chat window and the TV spec comparison lists.

As he scanned he took a sip of his cola and it went down the wrong pipe. He ended up spitting out some as he coughed and —of course—he managed to get it onto his keyboard. As soon as he went to type back to Cas, he found that he’d managed to stick some of his keys and they weren’t working.

_Dean: S, bt wat des the aspet rat mea? Sht. Keybard s fukg p._

_Castiel: Are you have computer trouble, Dean?_

_Dean: yes_

_Castiel: Did you still have questions?_

_Dean: yes_

_Castiel: You may reach me directly at this number (888)666-6969 ext42_

Dean grabbed his cellphone and closed the chat window. He listened to the recording inform him his call might be monitored for quality assurance and then he was connected to Castiel’s extension.

“Castiel speaking, how may I assist you today?” asked a voice made for spontaneous orgasm induction.

“Uh. Wow. Um, that’s some voice. This is Dean. We were just chatting?”

“Hello, Dean. My voice is a bit deeper than most, yes. You still had some questions?”

“A bit deeper? That’s like saying Everest is a bit higher than sea level.”

Castiel chuckled and for some reason, the sound affected Dean below the waist.

“I was going to ask you about something else, yeah.” _Like why you don’t work for a phone sex line._ “Um, aspect ratio. What’s that?”

Castiel painstakingly explained it to Dean, who was only half listening to the words and fully just enjoying the sound of Castiel’s voice.

“Does that make sense?”

“Damn, I could listen to you talk for a year,” Dean blurted, in such a trance that the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Shit! Dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Thankfully, Castiel laughed again. “I appreciate the sentiment. Was I able to help you understand aspect ratio?”

“Yeah, I think so. Um... oh, shit, man. I can’t even get the damn TV till I get my keyboard fixed.”

“Actually, if you’ve decided which one you want, I can assist you with making a purchase, if you like.”

They started the process for that and then Castiel started collecting Dean’s personal information.

“Oh, you’re in Lawrence too? Our call center is actually located there. May I please have your cell phone number?”

“Yep, born and raised. Whatcha need my cell phone for, Cas? You gonna ask me to dinner?” Dean couldn’t help flirting as he pulled his credit card from his wallet.

Castiel stammered into the phone. “Sir, it’s standard procedure to ask for customers’ phone numbers. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression—”

“Relax, Cas, I was only teasing.”

He rattled off the number and then they finished with the rest of the transaction.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester. Is there anything else I can assist you with this evening?”

“No, I think that’s it. You’ve been a big help. Thanks.”

“Thank _you_ , Dean. I hope you have a very pleasant rest of your evening.”

“Yeah, thanks, man, you too.”

Dean hung up and sighed, sad to have to stop listening to the sexy voice on the other end of the line. His cellphone rang with a local number he didn’t know. Figuring it was probably Charlie, he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas? Is there a problem with my order?”

“No.”

Castiel cleared his throat and dropped his voice until he was whispering. Dean didn’t know how that made his voice hotter, but it did.

“I actually live a couple of houses down from you and I get off shift in ten minutes. Could I take you out for a drink when I get home?”

“Uh... yes?” It didn’t really matter what he looked like, anyway, but especially when he sounded like _that_.

“Excellent. I will see you in about... forty-five minutes?”

“Yep, yeah, that’s good.”

As soon as they hung up, Dean shook off his shock and took a quick but extremely thorough shower. With a voice like that revving his libido all night, if Dean didn’t get laid afterward, he was going to be very disappointed. He grabbed a dark green button up—the one everyone said brought out his eyes—and threw it on over his best boxer briefs and the jeans that hugged his ass the best. He scrubbed a little gel into his hair and then went to stand by the front door like a teenager waiting for his prom date.

When the knock came, Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He opened the door and _holy hell_. Cas was ten times hotter than his voice. And that was saying something.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, voice somehow even sexier in person.

Then he smiled and Dean was pretty sure he was a goner.

“Heya, Cas.”

“Shall we?” Cas asked, reaching for Dean’s hand.

When their hands actually touched, Dean knew—this night was gonna be something special.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jinkies what an amazing coincidence! ;) I promised cheese, and cheese is what I delivered. Feel free to reprimand me sternly for the cheddar-like aroma of this ficlet. I live for your chastising. ♥


	26. Body Swap AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up feeling strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was not at all the trope or the ficlet I intended to post for you tonight, which is why this is so late. When I tried writing the other one, though, I just couldn't get Cas right. No matter how I changed his speech, it just felt wrong and not like him at all. Since that's never really happened to me before, I thought it was best if I tried something else for tonight. Hope you like this because it is _very_ different from where I was planning to go.
> 
> ~~PS The desert island chapter is complete now, in case you missed it last night.~~
> 
> Yet another trope I have [done before](http://archiveofourown.org/series/71180). ~~and still need to finish, dammit~~

When Dean came to, he was in the library, face pressed against the book that was lying on the table in front of him. He lifted up, grimacing at the bit of drool he left behind. He swiped at his damp face and looked around, trying to figure out how he got there. He didn’t even remember being _in_ the library.

Then he noticed something strange, when he turned his head. His hair was longer when he was younger, so he knew what it was. His hair was longer than it had been. _What the hell?_ He stood up and stepped back.

“Has the table always been that low to the ground?” he whispered to himself.

Then he looked down at his hands. Well, actually, what he did was he looked down to where his hands _should_ have been. Those were not his hands, though. Those were... those were _Sam’s_ hands.

Then he remembered.

“Ah, shit, it was a _curse box_!”

He’d been in the store room, trying to find some ingredient or other Sam had asked him to look for. Dean had gotten bored and then distracted and finally, he’d wound up in the unsorted section again. He’d come across that box and then... nothing. Everything in his memory went black until he woke up here.

“There you are, Sam. I need to speak with you.” Cas had his nose buried in a book, so he wasn’t even looking at him when Dean looked his way. “I fear the Beast curse affected my grace more than we thought.” He looked up and gave a bitter little laugh. “You know I can’t even see your soul right now?”

Dean opened his mouth to let Cas know he wasn’t really Sam, but he didn’t get the chance.

Cas sighed heavily. “Which means I won’t be able to see Dean’s, either. That was one of the only parts I truly hated about being human. Not being able to see his soul. It’s so beautiful, Sam.”

Cas got up and moved closer to where Dean was sitting, leaning forward with his hands between his knees. Dean wanted to speak, he really did... but he also wanted to know what more Cas might say to Sam. His soul was beautiful? Cas had never told him that.

“I know you said I should give him some time after the Mark, but I think you know I am not very patient. I need to know whether he... if he could ever....” Cas looked away, apparently unable to say more.

“Could ever...?” Dean prompted.

“Sam, you _know_ what I’m getting at. I don’t know why you persist in making me talk about my feelings. Dean was right about you. You are pushy.”

_He’s not wrong, Sammy._

Just then there was a crash and Sam burst through the door.

“Dean, what the hell did you do?!”

“Why do you assume it was me? Couldn’t it just be some random witch?”

Sam couldn’t make Dean’s face into his annoyed face, but he gave it the old college try. “Oh, I don’t know, Dean, maybe because I woke up with a curse box in my hands? Or y _our_ hands, I should say.”

“Fine! I’m sorry—”

He was interrupted by a wide-eyed Cas fleeing the room.

“Shit.”

“Oh, God, Dean, what _else_ did you do?”

“Sam, does Cas, like... _like_ me?”

Sam groaned. “You know, for a genius hunter and an angel with nearly infinite knowledge you two are pretty fucking stupid.” He roared and then huffed. “Okay, look. I’m gonna go try and get Cas back in here because I don’t see how else we’re gonna be able to lift this curse. When I do, you will _not_ bring up anything about feelings until I am out of the room, got it?”

“Oh, now _you’re_ afraid of feelings?” Dean mocked.

“No, Dean. But you are. And I don’t want you posturing and lying to Cas and hurting him because you’re scared to show emotion in front of me.” With another glare, he stalked out of the room.

Who the hell did Sammy think he was, anyway? Dean was the older brother. He wasn’t scared of feelings. He just didn’t like them. They hurt and they were messy and look where love had gotten him so far in life. How many things had he fucked up because he loved Sam? How badly had Dad fucked up because he loved Mom and broke when he lost her?

So what if he loved Cas a little bit? They couldn’t actually _be_ together. Cas was still an angel and Dean was still a fuckup and that’s all there was to it.

His musings were cut off when a very stormy-faced Cas and an equally annoyed looking Sam came back into the room.

“If you both place your hands on the box while I recite the incantation, that should be enough. Assuming there’s not another malfunction with my grace.” Cas looked only at Sam while he talked, refusing to look at Dean for even a second.

They did as instructed and Dean felt nothing but relief when he returned to his normal form—until he remembered he was still supposed to talk to Cas.

“All right, look. You two have been dancing around this shit for ages. Cas, whatever you were thinking about saying to Dean, say it. Get it out in the open and be done with it. Dean, don’t be an asshole. Listen to what Cas has to say. Really listen. Don’t worry about what you think you _should_ do—just worry about what you _want_ to do. Do that.” He stalked toward the door. “All right, I’m leaving. Stop being idiots!” he called as a parting shot.

Cas and Dean avoided eye contact for a full minute and then had a staring contest for another two. Finally, Dean sighed and grabbed Cas’s shoulder, pushing him toward a chair as he himself sat down.

“All right, Cas, out with—”

“I love you.” The words came out fast and loud and seemed to shock Cas as much as Dean.

“I—oh. Um.” _Smooth, man. Super smooth._

“I need to know if you do—or think you ever could—return my feelings.”

Dean opened his mouth to let Cas down easy, but then he took in the wilted, _broken_ look of Cas. The guy looked half-defeated already, as if he just knew Dean was going to reject him on the spot. And Dean had been planning on it, which didn’t make him feel better.

Then Dean thought about what Sam had said. What did he _want_?

That was easy. He wanted Cas. A life with Cas. Hunting still, obviously. Monsters and shit weren’t gonna just go away. But the spaces in between the hunts... he wanted those filled with Cas. Not as friends. As something else.

“Dean?” Cas asked and his voice was pitiful.

“Yeah,” Dean said before his self-doubt could catch up to him. “I can. I... do. You know, the feelings. Your feelings. The... love feelings.” _Why was it so hard to say? Oh, right. He’d never really said it._

“You... you love me?”

“’Course I do, man. Remember the crypt? I tried to tell you then, but... I was too scared. Just wouldn’t come out right.” He chuckled weakly. “Kinda like now I guess.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do, man!” It was as if a dam had burst somewhere inside him, letting loose everything he’d been holding back for so long. “You said it. We both feel it. I’ve fought a million things most people might die just from _seeing_ , but I can’t say three little words?”

“Dean, it’s—”

“Dammit, stop giving me a way out! _I fucking love you, okay_?!” The words were loud, echoing through the library for several seconds and then leaving utter silence in their wake.

From the other end of the bunker they could faintly hear Sam call, “It’s about fucking time!”

“Hey, Cas?” He felt a little shell-shocked.

“Yes?” Cas looked a little shell-shocked himself, but his voice sounded normal.

“I know this thing is new, but once we’re comfortable enough to move forward, um... can we have really loud sex in my room? So loud Sam has to come sleep down here to keep from hearing it?” He felt a smile start to lift his lips.

Cas just grinned. “I’d really like that.”

And that’s exactly what they did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a message after the ♥.
> 
> # ♥


	27. Noble/Peasant AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel needs a nanny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the finest aged cheese for you my darlings.
> 
> Good day today. *waves at Beth* Hi Beth! ♥
> 
> Barely under the wire posting this, but I actually managed to forget I had to finish this tonight! Only a few more days to go and I nearly messed up! Sigh. And miss comments from you beautiful people?? Never.

 

Castiel had only been King for three days when his cousin Balthazar came begging for a favor. Never one to take precautions, Bal had managed to impregnate a barmaid near his home kingdom. Out of wedlock, naturally, and on top of that, she was married to someone else. As both she and her husband were of Moorish descent and coloring, she knew her husband would immediately know of her infidelity and so paid the midwife to tell her husband the child had died and spirit the baby away to Balthazar.

“Bal, do you expect me to clean up after you forever the way I did when we were children?” Castiel had yelled when Balthazar explained his predicament. “This is not just a pile of toys you’ve left on the floor, it’s a _child_!”

“Cassie, please! You know I’m hardly fit to be anyone’s father.”

That was certainly true enough. “And I am?” he had asked, anyway.

“Far more than I could ever be. Besides! You’re a king now! You can hire nannies and things and never even have to see the child at all. I can’t afford such luxuries.”

Castiel had argued for a long time, but ultimately, Bal had worn him down. The main problem was that Castiel knew Balthazar was right. Bal wasn’t fit for fatherhood, and Castiel could afford to take care of a child much better than Bal himself could ever hope to. Taking on a child who shared his bloodline had the added benefit of stopping dead any questions of when he would marry in order to produce an heir. Questions he’d been getting since his father had first fallen ill more than five years prior.

\--

It had been a week now and Castiel had formally adopted the child. They’d held a christening ceremony, and he’d named the baby Inias. The baby looked a bit like him and, despite the fact that he was not the natural father, Castiel felt a tug in his heart anyway when those large blue eyes met his own.

Despite what Bal had suggested, he was not going to leave the care of the child entirely with servants. He took several hours every single day to spend with the baby, even though it was often only fifteen minutes at a time. Inias took his meals with the wet nurse, obviously, but Castiel bathed him and rocked him and even changed him on occasion. Still, if war broke out, he knew he would be needed elsewhere, so he set about trying to hire a full-time nanny.

\--

Two weeks on and the interview process was not going well. He had met with dozens of potential candidates and none of them seemed remotely suitable at all. His advisers tried to convince him not to do the interviews himself, but he refused to budge on the issue. Inias was his child now and Castiel alone would be responsible for choosing his caregiver.

“Please send in the next applicant,” he said wearily to the servant at the door, with a wave that was more exhausted-looking than regal.

“Sammy, you have to wait out here, all right? Come on, kiddo, let go of my leg,” a weary voice pleaded in a soft tone.

“What’s happening?” Castiel asked the guard.

The servant, who was clearly new, rolled his eyes. “He’s brought a _child_ with him, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, yes, a nanny who is caring for a child, how ridiculous,” Castiel said drily. “You’re relieved, please ask Benny to assume your post for the rest of the day. Send the man _and_ the child in before you go.”

A handsome young blond man in clothes that had seen better days shyly stepped through the door, glancing back and down before meeting Castiel’s eyes. He dipped in a small, awkward bow and shuffled into the room only a few more inches.

“Y-your Majesty. Are you sure it’s all right if Sammy comes inside with me?”

This wave was much more noble. “Of course. You’re here to apply for a position in child-rearing. I might as well see your skills firsthand.”

The man, whose eyes were a brilliant green, Castiel noted, gestured toward the door. “Come on, Sammy, you heard him, it’s okay.”

A small boy of about five or so with wavy brown hair cautiously walked into the room.

Castiel smiled at him. “Hello, young man.” He looked at the other man, whose name he could not recall. “Is this your son, then?”

“No, he’s, um, my brother. My dad promised to watch him today, but... Well, obviously, that didn’t happen. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Sammy? Would you like to play over by the window while I speak with your brother? I have some blocks and things I can fetch from the next room.”

“Yes, sir!” Sammy said, forgetting shyness in his excitement.

“I should get them,” the blond said.

“What? Why?”

“You’re a _king_.”

Castiel laughed. “Well, yes, I had noticed. However, if I’m so weak I can’t carry a few blocks, I’m not fit to rule. Please excuse me for a moment... I’m sorry, please tell me your name again?”

“It’s, uh, Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Have a seat, Dean. I’ll be right back with the toys, Sammy.”

\--

It had been a couple of months since Castiel’s first meeting with Dean and things were going well. In the end, Castiel had moved both Dean and Sammy into the castle. Dean had been an easy choice for Inias’s nanny and Castiel couldn’t bear the idea of the brothers being separated, as close as they were. However, after one meeting with John Winchester, he had resolutely refused to allow him to stay in the castle with them. Castiel sent John to a cabin in the woods to sober up and told him that he could live in the room above the stable if he learned to behave himself. He was only allowed to visit his children once a week and never unsupervised. That seemed to be working out nicely.

Castiel was still able to spend a few hours a day with Inias. However, that now meant spending at least half that time with Dean, also. Since baby Inias was hardly a conversationalist, he found himself talking to Dean and learning about his life. He knew it wasn’t the smartest idea, but he felt himself growing fond of Dean. Quite fond indeed.

\--

One day when Castiel came in to spend some time with the baby, he noticed that Dean had dark rings under his eyes. His father had been to visit the day before and Castiel assumed the worst.

“Dean, have you slept at all?”

Dean, normally prone to putting up a front and pretending he was indestructible, instead sighed wearily and said, “Not really. Sammy had nightmares on and off all night and I had to stay with him.”

“Is he often plagued with nightmares?” Castiel asked, distressed as much by worry over Dean as Sammy. “Here, hand me Inias and come sit down.”

Dean handed him the baby and carefully sat next to him on the loveseat. “He has them sometimes. Dad... I think he’s drinking again. He was telling Sam stories yesterday. Scary stories. I think that’s what did it.”

Castiel was furious, but he kept his voice level. “I think perhaps a bit longer in the woods will do him good.”

Castiel expected Dean to protest, but he didn’t. Castiel went to turn and look at him, just as Dean’s head fell over onto his shoulder. A soft snore came from between those dusky pink lips and Castiel smiled, even as his heart ached a bit. What he wouldn’t give to touch those lips with his own.

\--

Six months later, Dean came to find Castiel in his study, looking determined but very unhappy. Castiel set aside his quill and stood up, gesturing at Dean to sit in one of the chairs by the fire. Castiel himself took the other.

“Dean, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Cas, I have to leave. I will of course help you find a replacement. I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I can’t stay here any longer after that.”

Castiel was more confused than alarmed. They’d had a very nice evening the night before. They’d taken dinner in Castiel’s room with the children and once Inias and Sam had fallen asleep, they’d stayed up late into the night, talking and laughing. What could have changed to make Dean want to leave so urgently?

“Dean, what are you talking about? Are you not happy here? Have I done something to upset you?”

“I’d rather not say, Ca—Your Majesty.”

Now Castiel—Cas, as Dean had begun to call him—was angry. He stood up and stalked a few feet away.

“No.” He said it in his most commanding voice. “Either you tell me why or I will not allow you to leave. I’m King of all of Novak and you are under my rule. I can command you to stay. However,” he said in a softer tone, shoulders drooping. “You are also my friend. And if you just tell me what’s the matter, perhaps we can fix it. Even if we can’t, if you really must go, I will let you, but please, Dean. Are we not friends? Would you really leave without giving me a reason?”

Dean’s eyes were wet and afraid. “I can’t tell you, Cas, please. You’ll... you’ll hate me. I can’t have that.”

“ _Dean_.” Castiel walked over and placed a hand over Dean’s. “If I live to be a thousand, I could never hate you. You’re one of the best men I have ever known.”

Dean sobbed and Castiel couldn’t stop himself from embracing him. Dean cried harder, but he clung to Cas tightly, as if scared to let go.

“Dean, my love, what _is_ it?” Castiel whispered, forgetting himself for a moment, until he felt Dean go stiff in his arms.

“What did you call me?” Dean asked in a wavering voice.

Castiel released Dean and backed away slightly. “I-I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t—”

“Did you call me ‘my love?’” Dean asked softly, pulling Cas close again. His gaze dropped to Castiel’s lips and he licked his own. “I thought you would hate me... because I love you, Cas. I’m so in love with you I can’t stand it.”

Castiel, unable to believe his ears, crushed their mouths together in a bruising, needy kiss. “You will never threaten to leave me again, do you hear?” He tried for commanding, but it sounded much more like a plea.

Dean smiled. “Promise.”

“I’m having your things moved into my rooms at once. Now that I know my love is returned, I don’t want to waste another second being apart from you.”

“Wait, Cas!” Dean frowned. “What will people say? Love between two men isn’t exactly accepted, you know!”

“Am I not King? Do I not make the laws that govern this whole Kingdom? I alone say with whom I can be in love. Before you, I was afraid, but you make me brave, Dean Winchester. I want to marry you and have you rule by my side. Will you be my husband?”

Dean kissed him soundly for several long minutes before answering. “Nothing I’d rather do, Cas.”

\--

And they lived happily ever after.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahbbys had a dream in which featured the line "So cheesy must be from Wisconsin" or something very like that and I thought that was magical. (Shout-out to my buddy in Wisconsin who might not want me to say her name and her home state together but knows who she is.)
> 
> ♫I looooove youuuu truuulyyyy♪ ♥


	28. Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas's brother got a promotion and didn't tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the one I struggled with the other night, but then Mahbbys made me realize I had them in the wrong roles. I don't know if this is cheese, but I hope it's cute. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~This is mostly unrelated to the ficlet, but to the person to whom I gave the safe word "Banana Hammock" here is the[origin of that safe word](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmqQGKFZJ0M).~~

It was almost seven-thirty and Cas was in dire need of a cup of coffee. He'd been working in the office since six-fifteen because he had a presentation at nine-forty-five. He knew he'd never make it without some caffeine. He loaded up and logged into the Barista app, then went back to work as he waited for the hologram of Gabriel and the coffee shop to appear.

"Good morning, Mr. Novak. See you’ve got a standard order of an Americano with an extra shot of Espresso, a single squirt of chocolate syrup and a single squirt of caramel syrup. Is that what you'd like this morning?"

Cas was so engrossed in the speech for his presentation that it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He looked up in surprise and saw a very good looking man with medium colored hair and piercing eyes of indeterminate color. _Maybe one day they'd make holograms something other than green_. He could just see the outlines of the coffee shop behind him.

He stared for a few seconds before blurting, "You're not Gabriel." _He almost certainly knows that_.

"No, sir. I’m Dean. Gabriel’s been promoted to manager of our fine store. However, I assure you I can provide you with the same quality coffee you've come to expect." He winked and then stared back at Cas expectantly. When Cas didn't answer, Dean spoke again. "Now then, would you like your standard order? I show the current wait time for the dispensary system is one minute, eight and one half seconds for your usual beverage of choice."

Cas managed a smile. “Uh, yes, that’s good, thank you.”

“Good choice.” Dean looked pleased. “Now, Mr. Novak, will you be using ThumbPay today or another method? Looks like you’re almost out of Barista credits.”

“Oh. Dammit, I guess I forgot to refill my account. All right. Just give me a second to transfer credits.”

“You got it.”

There was a slightly awkward silence as Cas got logged into his accounts. Or at least it felt awkward to him.

“I gotta say, you’re not what I was expecting from Gabe’s descriptions of you.”

Cas glanced up from his financial task and stared at Dean with a confused frown. “Oh? In what way am I different?”

Dean looked uncomfortable then. “Um, actually, you know what? I think I have you confused with—”

“I told him you were a snarky pain in the ass,” Gabriel said, appearing over Dean’s shoulder.

Cas’s face fell into one of annoyed resignation. “I see. And did you also mention I am the long-suffering younger brother of a childish—”

“Well, that’s enough chit-chat, you crazy kids, some of us have work to do!” Gabriel scurried back to the store’s office, out of sight.

Cas sighed and shook his head, returning to his bank website.

“You’re Gabe’s _brother_? Wow. I don’t envy you,” Dean told him with a smirk. Then he seemed to remember himself. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Cas smiled in reassurance. “I’ve taken no offense, Dean. My brother is a good man, underneath it all, but he’s also a colossal pain in the ass, sometimes. Anyway, there’s no need to stand on formalities with me. I’m used to my brother’s antics.” His smile widened. “You’re a refreshing chance of pace.”

“That means he _liiiikes_ yooooouuuu!” Gabriel sing-songed from somewhere out of sight.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean asked, smile turning flirtatious now. “Well, I’m still kind of new in town. Maybe we could grab a drink sometime and you could show me around.”

Cas, unable to answer for staring, vaguely registered Dean pushing buttons and then not long after, heard the tell-tale sound of his coffee making its way toward him.

“But Dean, I haven’t paid yet!” he protested.

Dean’s hologram shrugged. “It’s on me. To show there’s no hard feelings.”

“Dean, I didn’t say no.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t say yes, either.” Dean looked hopeful, though.

“Yes. I would like to have a drink with you.”

Dean’s smile, even holographic and sickly green, was breathtaking. “Yeah? Awesome. You free tonight?”

“He’s free every night!” Gabe called.

“Gabriel!”

Cas’s brother slid into view on his hoverchair. “What? Just telling the kid the truth and getting you a date for tonight. It’s called being a good brother, Casio! I mean, when was the last time you got _me_ a date, huh?” Gabe looked at Dean and waggled his eyebrows. “Say, Deanie-Beanie, you got a brother or sister who's free tonight?”

Dean scowled and pointed at Gabriel with ferocity. “Never call me that again. And I wouldn’t let you near my brother with a ten foot pole.”

Gabriel smirked. “So you _do_ have a brother. He single? Hot? Oooh. Is he tall like you?”

“Gabriel, could you at least wait until _after_ my date with Dean to make him run for the hills?” Cas asked with a sigh.

“No way am I hooking you up with my brother, dick!”

“Hey!” Gabe said sharply. “I’m your boss now.” Then he grinned. “Dammit, I almost kept a straight face too.”

Dean grinned back. “I was totally scared, Gabe, really.”

“Whatever. Your brother will pick you up from work eventually. I’ll get my hooks in him then.”

Cas couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Is it too early for that drink _now_?” Dean asked him when Gabe had hovered away again.

“I’m afraid it is. I actually have to get back and prepare for a meeting,” Cas told him with great regret.

“All right, well, I’m off at five-thirty, if you want to swing by after work? We can take my Roller to the bar, if you want.”

“You still have a Roller? I didn’t think they allowed those without special licensing.”

“I do. She’s a sixty-seven Impala. I had to take classes and everything to get certified, but she’s worth it. You’ll see.”

Cas smiled. “I look forward to it.” He heard his coffee arrive and pressed the button to add the hot water. “My coffee is here. Thank you for that. Are you sure I can’t pay...?”

“Nah. You enjoy it. I made it with a little extra something I hope you’ll like.” Dean looked shy and uncertain as he spoke.

Cas gave him a curious look and picked up the coffee cup. He sipped and smiled at the buttery and bitter flavors on his tongue. Then, just at the end, a hint of spice.

“What is that?”

“Cardamom. I really like it in chocolate stuff. Gives it a richness, don’t you think?”

Cas nodded, taking another pleased sip. “I do. Thank you, Dean. It’s better than Gabriel’s.” He set the cup down and smiled very broadly at the holographic image. “I’ll see you at five-thirty, Dean. Have a good rest of the day.”

“You too, Cas.”

\--

That night, as he lay curled up against Dean’s side in post-coital bliss, Cas reflected that he’d never been happier to see Gabriel get a promotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've no idea why Gabriel decided to pop into this fic to be a little shit, but there ya go. Probably he's just missing Sammy, since I've been neglecting my SGBB for tropes. But the tropes are almost done. *WAILS* I need comfort comments! ♥


	29. Arranged Marriage AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John screwed up the kingdom and now it's up to Dean to clean up his mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You: *orders smut*  
> Me: Order up!
> 
> Only one day remains! And I have an idea for what to do next. So you guys be thinking of tropes you like that I didn't cover here. You have until posting time tomorrow to think of a good one. Don't tell me today! I'll explain the rest of the rules tomorrow.

“Sam, stop, it’s fine.” Dean was mad as hell and the last thing he needed was his little brother fiddling with his clothes.

“No, Dean, it’s _not_ fine,” Sam argued, voice plaintive. “It’s bad enough you agreed to do this because Dad can’t find another way out of his mess, but if you don’t hold to their customs during the ceremony, they can make life really bad for you.”

Dean sighed, knowing his brother was right. Another time, he might have argued that John had been doing the best he could, whatever... but the fact was, John had apparently run Winchester into the ground and Dean was paying the price so Sam wouldn’t have to. So all John’s loyal subjects could go on living their lives in relative ease.

That didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

\---

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today in this house of the Lord Our God to witness the joining in holy matrimony...”

Dean zoned out. He hated this part even worse than everything leading up to it. He wasn’t allowed to see his betrothed, nor was his betrothed allowed to see him. They were both veiled completely from the top of their heads to their necks. Or at least, Dean assumed the other person was. He couldn’t exactly see. He didn’t even know if it was a woman or a man, not that it mattered as far as he was concerned. His only consolation was that they didn’t know about him, either.

He’d never wanted to be married in the first place, let alone because his father and some snooty royal family from hundreds of miles away had decided they needed a marriage between their best eligible kin to broker a truce. Didn’t matter much what he wanted, though, did it? At least he got to live nearby, so he wouldn’t have to be hundreds of miles from Sam.

He couldn’t let himself think about who the other person might be leaving behind. Had they had a significant other they were having to say goodbye to? That wasn’t so bad, if they were in a relationship. Dean wasn’t going to stop them having their fun. He certainly had no intentions of stopping his. He’d agreed to be faithful for the first six month, but after that, he’d do what he wanted.

\---

The road was rough and Dean was bored as hell. According to the agreement, even though they were now lawfully wed—and the gender neutrality of the ceremonial words meant Dean _still_ had no idea what kind of wedding night he’d be having—they were not allowed to speak or see each other until they were alone in their bed chamber. Despite this, they were forced to ride in a carriage together under the watchful eye of two royal guards, one from each kingdom.

He didn’t mind not talking and he figured he’d see his new spouse soon enough. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much way to alleviate boredom on a road trip when you weren’t allowed to speak or even look out the window. And why it had to be a carriage, instead of a car, he had no idea. Being in his Baby would have helped a lot. After about ten minutes, he opted for a nap.

\---

“All right, here we are, you two. Darius and I are going to step out. You are not to remove your veils or say a word until you hear the door close behind us. There’s plenty of food in the larder and someone will be back to check on you in a couple of days. Until then, you are not allowed to leave.”

A hand landed on Dean’s shoulder and he turned his head to that side.

“Now then, using only your heads to indicate a response, do you both understand?”

Dean nodded and assumed the other person did as well.

“Good. We’re off. Good luck!”

Dean probably imagined the mocking in his tone. Probably.

As soon as the door closed, Dean muttered, “Thank _fuck_!” and yanked at his veil. He blinked rapidly, since the room was much brighter than he’d expected, especially after the darkness inside the veil. After a minute, he was able to take in his surroundings and _hello_. His husband was hot.

“Hello. I’m Castiel.”

“Hey. Hey, I’m Dean.” He smiled slightly. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

Castiel smirked. “I admit the circumstances are not ideal. Did you choose this or was it chosen for you?”

“Oh, I was given a choice.” Dean laughed. “Do it or else. How about you?”

“Pretty much the same. Although I will admit, the chance to leave my kingdom and the watchful eye of my family may have improved my enthusiasm a bit.”

“So no one, um, waiting for you back at home? Girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?”

“There’s never been anyone of importance. You?”

“Nah. Not really the settling down type.”

He grimaced, but Castiel only laughed.

“That’s reassuring. I do hope you’ll be able to contain yourself for the next six months. After that, you’re free to do as you please.”

“Well, I guess that depends on whether or not you intend to be a dutiful husband in the bedroom in the meantime.” Dean, rarely as smooth with men as with women, felt his face burn with a blush, but he held eye contact.

Castiel cocked an eyebrow, then looked Dean over, causing heat to pool low in Dean’s belly.

Castiel’s voice was a bit lower when he said, “I’d very much like to.”

“Good. Me too.”

Castiel took a step forward. “Would you like to start now?”

As soon as Dean nodded, Castiel was coming forward to kiss him. Apparently a fan of efficiency, he also wasted no time in trying to get Dean’s clothes off. Dean batted his hands away as their mouths broke apart and started removing his own shirt and pants. He was grateful that Castiel started to do the same—even more so when he got a look at what was underneath Castiel’s clothes.

“Wow, you’re really... wow.”

“Well, I could say the same.” That eyebrow went up again. “Although I’d prefer to use actual words. Sexy perhaps? Or beautiful.”

Dean flushed with embarrassment and then pride. “How about gorgeous?” he asked breathily. “That a good enough word for you?” He looked Castiel up and down again. “I’m not sure it is.”

Castiel gave him a pleased smiled. “I think it will suffice.”

“I think your... face will... suffice.” _Awesome_. “Sorry. I’m not very good at words when I’m nervous.”

“Really? You hide it so well.” Castiel’s face was impassive, but Dean could just see the twitch at the corner of his mouth and the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Dick.” Dean huffed a laugh. “Speaking of, weren’t we getting naked or something?”

“Or something,” Cas said, suddenly back in Dean’s space again.

This time when they kissed, Dean could feel the warmth of Castiel’s skin against his own chest and it cranked up the intensity times about a million. He had a hand around Castiel’s neck and the other was exploring the immediate area in front of him. He finally settled on Castiel’s hip, squeezing and kneading the firm soft flesh there.

“Bedroom?” Cas asked, eyes black with want.

“Good plan.”

After a few false starts with closets and bathrooms, they finally found the master bedroom. It was huge, with an eight by eight by three foot bed against the outside wall. There was also a table full of... sexual paraphernalia. Dean doubted they would use much of it right now, but he kept it in his mind for later.

Castiel grabbed lube on his way to the bed and then beckoned to Dean when he didn’t immediately follow him there.

Dean climbed up and they knelt in front of each other, resuming the kissing they’d left off in the other room. They quickly got rid of their underwear and the next thing Dean knew, he was on his back, with his legs bent to one side. Castiel was kneeling by Dean’s hips, slicking himself with lube.

“Later, I’d like to take my time with you. Open you up and make you scream and beg for more, until you’re flushed and sweating and incoherent.” Castiel was sweeping his gaze over Dean and stroking his cock languidly the whole time he spoke, making Dean’s own cock ache with need. “But it’s been too long and you’re too beautiful. I won’t last long this first time.”

“So, what are you—oh!” Dean said as the slick head of Castiel’s cock slipped between his thighs and brushed over first his balls and then his leaking erection. “Yeah, that’s—fuck—that’s good.”

In this position, there wasn’t a lot Dean could do in terms of thrusting back. Mostly what he could do was lie there and take it. He couldn’t even really reach down and stroke himself, but he didn’t really mind. However, he did think of something he could do to not only increase his pleasure—and maybe Castiel’s as well—but also help make round two more likely to be comfortable for him.

Castiel—whose strokes were still slow and deliberate for the moment but were increasing in pace and power—had left the lube within Dean’s reach. He grabbed it and slicked up the fingers of his left hand, since he was lying on his right side. Then he reached back and stroked over his hole gently with one finger.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Castiel said when he saw what Dean was doing.

His gaze was transfixed by Dean’s finger—even more so once Dean inserted the tip of it into his hole and began working it in and out. Cas’s hips started to piston faster, sending wave after wave of pleasure over Dean’s cock as their erections rocked together. Dean added a second finger and they both hissed—for similar reasons.

Castiel’s mouth was hanging open now, and he panted as he watched the motion of Dean’s fingers. For Dean, the small stretch of his fingers and the slight fullness made every stroke of Castiel’s dick against his own that much more enjoyable. He felt like everything between his legs was one big nerve, aching and tingly and burning with pleasure.

He pressed a third finger into himself and that sent Castiel’s thrusts into overdrive. He was bucking against the back of Dean’s thighs now and that alone brought Dean closer to his orgasm. When Dean added a fourth finger, basking in the feeling of being open like that, Castiel’s gaze finally shifted. He looked straight into Dean’s eyes as he crested, mouth falling further open on a cry. As he started to spill his release all over Dean’s cock and stomach, he bent down and kissed him.

Castiel couldn’t keep up his strokes for long after he came. He quickly became too sensitive. Instead, once he was finished, he moved Dean’s legs, spreading them, and then bent his head down to engulf Dean’s erection with his mouth.

“Ah, fuck, Cas!” Dean cried out.

He had to remove his fingers when Castiel had rolled him, but Cas replaced them with his own. It took a few tries, but Castiel eventually located his prostate. Not long after, the heat of Cas’s mouth combined with the sheer joy sparking out from his fingers caused Dean to arch off the bed with his own mind-numbing orgasm. Castiel swallowed every drop.

Cas found some wet wipes on the table of toys and used them to clean them up. Then he curled up next to Dean on the bed, lazily stroking his fingers across Dean’s belly.

“Not sure six months is going to be enough of that,” Dean said as he drifted in a bliss-haze. “That was fucking awesome.”

“Mmm,” Cas agreed. “Better give it a year, just in case.”

“Heck, let’s say six years.”

“Why not sixty?”

Dean snorted, shifting to look down at Cas around his hair. “Does this mean we’re gonna try and make a go of this thing for real?”

Castiel shrugged. “Well, I like you. The sex is amazing.” Dean felt Cas’s mouth curve up against his chest. “And I’ve nothing better on the horizon. What do you think?”

“I think I’ve heard worse reasons for making a marriage work.” He looked down at Cas again, sternly this time. “But don’t go expecting me to fall for you or say I love you, like, ever. I don’t do that crap, man.”

Or at least he didn’t until another month went by. Then he learned to say it quite a lot. It helped that Cas was more than happy to say it back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, weird new positions! Yay! (Or nay, if you didn't like it, but yay for me because I did!) ♥


	30. Orphan AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary and John invite a third child into their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants a 5.5k final trope fic? Well, you got one! 
> 
> I don't know where this one came from. I was sorta dreading this trope tbh. Then this happened. Glad I saved it for last, I guess.
> 
> THIRTY DAYS!! I can't believe I wrote and posted something every day for 30 days. The writing, yes. But starting and finishing (with a couple of exceptions) a new thing every day? Wow. And the comments?? By far the most I've ever gotten on any other fic, including Angeles which had hundreds.
> 
> So, I'm making up a new challenge!! (See bottom notes for rules)

The year Dean turned ten, his mom and dad called a family meeting on what seemed like just a random Wednesday, just after school had let out for the year.

“Boys, your dad and I want to talk to you about something important.” Mary looked at John for support and he reached over and took her hand. She turned back to the boys. “Now, I know it may not always seem like it, but you boys have been very lucky. You’ve got two parents who love you and we have a roof over our heads and you both have a brother to watch your back.” She smiled at them lovingly.

“We are lucky, Mom. We know that, don’t we, Sammy?”

“I got the best big brother in the whole world!” six year old Sammy declared. He might not always look up to his brother, but right now, he thought Dean was the coolest thing, ever.

Mary smiled even bigger. “You sure do, sweetie. And he’s got the best little brother.”

“Yep!” Dean said, ruffling Sam’s hair affectionately. Today wasn’t a fighting and annoying your brother kind of day.

“Well, the thing is....” She looked at John again as she trailed off and he nodded at her, encouraging her to continue. “There’s a little boy in Kansas City who doesn’t have any of those things right now, but... your dad and I would like to give them to him.”

Sammy’s face scrunched up in confusion. “You’re gonna buy him a family?”

“No, dork,” Dean said with a laugh. Maybe there was room for a _little_ teasing today. “I think they mean they wanna get another kid. Right?” He looked back and forth between his parents.

“Well, yes, actually. The little boy’s parents just died and he’s all alone. He’s been with a foster family, but Ellen just had to remove him and, since he’s about your age, Dean, she asked me how we would feel about taking him in.”

“I told your mother I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to talk to you boys about it first. It’s a big change.”

“I’d get another brother?” Sam asked, bouncing up and down with a smile on his face.

Dean missed his parents’ answers, as he imagined a life without Mom, Dad or Sammy. He didn’t like to think about it. He hated to think about this other kid who’d never had a brother and now had no parents, either. There was no choice, really. Plus, he could use another friend.

“When’s he moving in?” He smiled to let them know he was on board with it.

“If you boys are both okay with it, we’d like to go and get him from Ellen’s today.”

When Mary called Ellen, however, they decided it would be best if Ellen brought him over instead. Dean helped his parents rearrange some furniture and get the extra bed set up—both Dean and Sam had insisted it should go in their room with the bunk beds, so the new kid wouldn’t have to sleep alone in a strange place—while Sammy watched television in the living room. They were just finishing up when the door bell rang.

Mary opened the door and Ellen walked in, followed by a solemn-looking boy with unruly dark hair and large blue eyes that took in everything with an air of distrust. The too-blue gaze finally latched onto Dean and seemed unwilling to let go. Dean gave him a crooked smile, which the boy hesitated but finally returned.

“Everyone, this is Castiel.” Ellen put a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him. “Castiel, this is Mary and her husband John. Sammy is the little one there.” She winked at Dean. “And that little troublemaker there is Dean.”

“Hello.” Castiel sounded really scared and Dean didn’t like it.

“Hey! You wanna see your new room?” Dean asked, walking forward to grab Castiel by the hand. “Come on, Sammy let’s show him!”

They left the adults to talk and all but dragged Castiel into their room. Dean caught the way Castiel’s eyes widened when he saw the bunk beds.

“Sammy sleeps on the bottom bunk, but you can have either of the other two beds.”

“But Dean, you sleep on the top bunk!” Sammy protested.

“Well, maybe Castiel wants to now. Besides, he might be like you and not want to sleep all by himself on the other side of the room.”

“Oh. Okay. Good thinking, Dean.” Sammy was trying hard to sound older than his six years.

“I wouldn’t want to take your bed, Dean,” Castiel said quietly.

“Nah, it’s cool, Cas. If you want the top bunk, it’s yours. I’m getting kinda big for it anyway. I could use the extra space.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want it.”

“If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind... I think I would like to sleep there. At least for a while. Perhaps we could take turns?” he offered shyly.

Dean grinned. “Dude, you talk like a grownup. Hey, you wanna go out back and play on the swing set?”

“I’d like that very much,” Castiel said, eyes lighting up. “I didn’t have swings at... my old house.”

“Well, you got ‘em here! C’mon!” Sammy said, grabbing Castiel by the hand and dragging him toward the door.

They all rushed into the living room, making a beeline for the back door. They were stopped by Mary before they could get there, however.

“Where are you boys going?”

“Cas didn’t have swings, but now he does, so we’re gonna show him how they work!” Sammy explained, chest puffed up with pride.

Mary smiled. “Well, that’s nice of you. Castiel, I hope the boys are making you feel welcome. I know it will take some getting used to, but this is your home now, if you want it.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Sammy said, as if Mary’s intellect was in question. “O’ _course_ , we are! Dean even gave Cas his _bed_. Can we go play now?”

Mary laughed, winking at Dean in approval. “Yes, you may. Just come back in time for supper. Let’s let Ellen say goodbye to Castiel first, though, okay?”

Once they finally made it outside, they played Pirates for a while, followed by Cops and Robbers and Hide and Seek. Castiel had never played those or a bunch of other games before, so Sam and Dean declared it their mission to play all the things he wasn’t familiar with—which was almost everything. Then they all went inside for supper, followed by an hour of television before it was time for Sammy’s bath.

Since it was time for Dad’s procedural cop show that Dean wasn’t allowed to watch, he and Cas were relegated back to their room. Mary had put Castiel’s things away while they played outside, so he had his own drawers in the dresser and his own space in the closet.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just sort of looking at each other. With anyone else, Dean probably would have thought it was weird, but with Cas, it just sort of seemed okay. It was almost like they were talking with their eyes. Dean’s stomach felt kinda funny when Cas looked at him, but not in a bad way.

“Sorry about your parents,” Dean finally said, when he felt like it was time to speak again.

“It’s okay.” Castiel dropped his eyes and shrugged. “It’s weird not having them around, but... I don’t think they liked me much, anyway.”

Dean was affronted on his behalf. “How could anyone not like you? You’re awesome!” He shuffled so he could put an arm around Cas, that funny feeling in his stomach getting stronger with the action. “Anyway, Mom and Dad and me and Sammy like you a whole lot, so don’t worry. We’re your fam’ly now, okay?”

For the first time, Dean saw Castiel’s gummy smile. It spread the funny feeling through his whole body. He decided then and there to make it his mission to make Cas smile a lot more.

\---

It had been nearly six years since Castiel moved in with them and that funny feeling had only gotten stronger. Of course, Dean was pretty sure by now what the feeling was—and equally sure he couldn’t do anything about it. He was choosing to date as many girls as possible to try and make it go away. It wasn’t working, but he was trying anyway.

Unfortunately, all that really seemed to do was make Cas mad at him. And even though he wanted his feelings for Cas to be gone, having Cas mad at him was basically the worst feeling in the world. It made him feel raw and vulnerable in a way that he couldn’t really handle without lashing out.

“I just don’t see why you would want to go out with her when you know for a fact she only likes you for your car,” Castiel spat at him after finding out Dean had made a date with a girl named Bela.

“You’re just jealous because she’ll probably put out and you’ve never even kissed a girl!”

Mary, naturally, chose that moment to walk in from outside. “Dean! Stop being mean to your brother!”

Dean, that funny feeling turning squirmy inside him at the idea of Cas being called his sibling, yelled, “He’s _not_ my brother!”

He hadn’t meant it the way it came out, but he saw Castiel’s face fall in obvious hurt before Cas rushed out of the room and slammed the bedroom door. Mary’s face flooded with disappointment.

“Dean Winchester, how dare you!”

Dean closed his eyes before meeting his mother’s gaze. “I didn’t mean it like that, Mom,” he said quietly, all anger having left him at the look on Cas’s face.

“Then how _did_ you mean it?” Her voice still sounded a little angry, but Dean thought her face said she might have an idea.

“We didn’t really grow up together like Sam and I did. I don’t think of him like a brother. We’re closer than that. He’s my best friend and....” He closed his eyes again against the tears that sprang up, unable to finish his sentence. He did his best to get his breathing under control and spoke again. “And I don’t love him like a brother.”

“Oh, honey....” She sighed. “I have always called him your brother because I wanted him to feel included, but I’ve always sort of known there was something else there between you two. Neither of you are with each other the way you are with Sam and you never have been.” She reached out and hugged him close. “You need to go talk to him.”

“I can’t tell him how I feel!”

“Why not? You told me.”

“Because he’ll hate me!” Even the idea of it made Dean feel sick inside.

Mary’s eyes were sad but knowing. “Dean.” She sighed again. “You need to talk to him.”

“But he doesn’t see me like that! And even if he did, even though he’s not my brother, people at school would mock us like he is.”

“Sweetie, most of the time what you feel is more important than what other people think.” Mary pushed him away from her gently. “He won’t hate you, Dean. I can’t promise you he feels the same way, but I know he won’t hate you.” She kissed him on top of the head, having to stand on her tip toes and pull him down to do it. “Either way, you need to apologize. Because what he heard just now was that you don’t think of him as family and he needs to know that’s not true.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, shoulders sagging.

He stood outside the bedroom door for a full minute, working up the nerve to either knock or just walk inside. Sam was at a friend’s house, so at least they’d have the room to themselves. Finally he took a deep breath and knocked.

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your room.”

His tone was sarcastic and bitter and Dean winced. He opened the door and found Cas up on the top bunk, back to the wall. He had one leg straight out and the other hugged to him. Dean tried not to notice how the muscles of his legs were filling out and filling in his jeans in all the right ways—but he’d been trying not to notice for years now and it hadn’t worked so far.

“I’m sorry for saying that.”

“Why?” Cas asked in a cold, clipped voice. “It’s true. I’m not your brother. I’m no one to you. Nothing.”

“God, Cas, that’s not true! I _don’t_ think of you as a brother, but it’s not because you’re nothing to me!” He didn’t want to raise his voice in case his dad came home, but his emotion was getting the better of him. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “It’s because you’re everything.” He was whispering, but he knew by the small gasp that Cas had heard him.

“What?”

Dean was terrified of the look of horror that was sure to be on Castiel’s face, but he forced himself to open his eyes. Cas’s face was pale except for two small spots of color high up on his cheeks and his blue eyes were wide and unreadable. Dean took a deep breath.

“I don’t love you like a brother. I love you like a best friend and....”

Cas was leaning forward now, as if he might jump down. “And?” he prompted. Then he licked his lips. “Do... do you love me as something else too?”

Dean wasn’t sure, but... was that _hope_ on Cas’s face? It looked like hope. Dean didn’t trust his voice—or his interpretation of Castiel’s expression—so instead of speaking, he just nodded.

“Dean!” Cas did jump down then, landing with grace only inches in front of Dean. He stared into Dean’s eyes the way he’d done a couple thousand times, but somehow this time was different. “I don’t love you like a brother, either.” He took a single step forward, putting himself right in Dean’s space, with barely two inches between them. “I love you like a best friend.” His head came forward, only millimeters separating their mouths now. “And something else.”

Dean, drawn in by blue and the smell of cinnamon and years of longing, closed the gap between them. Cas’s lips were warm and soft and Dean pressed against them and sucked lightly. It was the best kiss he’d ever had already and they hadn’t even gotten to open mouths yet.

“Guess you can’t say I’ve never been kissed anymore,” Cas said when they broke apart.

Dean yanked him back in and this time, plunged his tongue between Cas’s slightly parted lips and taught him what a proper kissing was. Castiel, as it turned out, didn’t actually need any instruction. The way he kissed back left Dean’s knees feeling weak. When Cas growled against his mouth, Dean thought he might die right there.

“You are _not_ going out with Bela tomorrow.”

Dean shrugged. “Eh, she only liked me for my car, anyway.” He smirked.

“Asshole,” Cas said, punching his shoulder with a smile. Then he frowned. “How are we going to keep this a secret from your parents?” He still didn’t refer to them as Mom and Dad and probably never would, though he obviously loved them.

“I don’t know. Honestly, Mom seems cool with it. I think Sammy will be too. Got no clue about Dad. And school... man, that’s not something I’m sure I can handle.”

Cas just shrugged. “People say it about us anyway, you know.”

“What?” Dean was genuinely surprised. He’d never heard anything like that.

“Maybe not to you, but Alistair and his neanderthal friends make jabs at me all the time when you’re not around.”

“I didn’t know they were hassling you! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Cas just glared at him.

“Yeah, all right, fair enough.” He blew out a breath. “So, do we tell anyone? Or keep it to ourselves? I mean, mom knows how _I_ feel, but—”

“Mary knows how I feel too.”

Dean looked at him in surprise. “She does? Man, she’s good. She never let on she knew how you’re react, but she convinced me to tell you how I felt.”

“She’s not going to let us share a room anymore, you know.”

“Shit, I hadn’t thought about that. Well, you and Sam both get nightmares, so I think you should stay in here. Unless you’d rather be on your own?”

“No, but... I already kicked you out of your bed once. I don’t want to kick you out of your bedroom too.”

Dean pulled Cas into a hug. “Dude, when are you gonna realize that whatever makes you happy makes me happy?”

\---

In the end it hadn’t mattered what kids at school thought because John had gotten a job in Sioux Falls and they’d left at the end of the school year. The next year, no one knew them, so no one knew their living situation until they’d already been established as boyfriends. When people found out they lived together and assumed that they’d been boyfriends first, well, Dean and Cas didn’t bother to correct them.

Mary had indeed told them they had to have separate rooms, but she hadn’t made them do it before John came home with the news about the job, so she’d let them stay together until the move. In the new house, there was space for everyone to have a room, anyway, so it didn’t feel as strange.

Cas, mainly due to the upbringing he’d had before coming to live with the Winchesters, admitted to Dean that, while he missed sleeping with Dean so near, he was a little relieved to have the walls between them. Despite his aptitude and love for kissing, he didn’t feel comfortable going beyond that for several months after they became a couple.

Dean couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, but he didn’t really mind. He was content to lie on the couch and just cuddle and kiss while watching movies. And if he had to take extra long showers on those nights, so what? Cas didn’t object and neither did Dean.

One night when the kissing had gotten pretty heated before Cas had made them stop, he looked sad when he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I know you must think I’m stupid. I’m a teenaged boy, I should want this as much as you do.”

“Cas, in no way do I think you’re stupid. Do I want to do more? Of course I do. I love touching you. It’s fantastic. But you’re not ready. If you did it anyway, you wouldn’t enjoy it and neither would I. I only want it if _you_ want it, okay? I can wait as long as you need.”

“What if I’m never ready?” Cas asked in a small voice.

“Then I’m gonna need more body wash for the shower,” Dean teased.

When Cas smiled, everything was worth it.

\---

Eventually, during senior year, Cas started to feel comfortable enough to move past the kissing and back rubbing phase of their relationship. Dean still took it very slowly, but by Christmas they had worked their way up to handjobs and he was hopeful about trading blowjobs by spring break.

Instead, Dean did something stupid and they nearly broke up over spring break.

“You can’t be friends with Meg anymore,” Dean snapped when Cas got to the Impala after last period.

“Excuse me?”

The cold tone of his voice should have been a warning, but Dean didn’t catch it in time, possibly because he was starting the engine and didn’t like the weird noise Baby was making.

“She’s always putting her hands on you and I don’t like it. Stay away from her.”

“Dean Winchester, you are my boyfriend and I love you, but you can _not_ tell me who my friends are.”

“Oh, come off it! Weren’t you the one who _told_ me I couldn’t go out with Bela?”

Cas pursed his lips. “That was not the same situation, but I can see how you might construe it differently. What I was saying then was that, if you were going to kiss me and pursue a relationship with me, you could not also go out with other people. I was giving you a choice, not a command.” He looked at Dean levelly.

“And I chose you, so why can’t you choose me?” Dean asked petulantly as they pulled down their street.

“Dean, I _did_ choose you. But if you’re too pigheaded to realize that I’m gay and have no interest in Meg, then maybe I made a bad choice!” They’d reached the driveway and Cas jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Dean sighed and followed him into the house—the door of which he also slammed, this time into Dean’s face—where he found his mom standing in the middle of the living room with a confused look on her face.

“I screwed up. What’s new?” he said morosely as he headed toward the hallway.

She grabbed his arm before he could get past her. “Then fix it.”

He stared at her for a second. When he realized her face only showed confidence he could make it right instead of disappointment that he’d messed up in the first place, he nodded. He could do this.

Once again, he found himself standing outside Castiel’s bedroom door. He knocked and waited to be yelled at to go away. Castiel didn’t respond, however, not even when Dean asked if he could come inside. He gently eased open the door and what he saw made his heart ache. Cas was lying on his side, facing the wall. His whole body was shaking with sobs.

“Hey, hey, no, Cas, I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” He gathered Cas to him, a little worried when he didn’t get a fight. “I saw her touching you and I just saw red and it was stupid. I guess I just had this dumb thought, like, maybe you didn’t want to do more with me because you really wanted somebody else and—God, Cas, talk to me, man, say something.”

Cas did speak, though Dean almost wished he hadn’t.

“You and Sam were my very first friends. I was ten and I’d never had a friend until I met you two.”

“What? You never told me that!”

“And all my other friends,” he continued as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “They were all only my friends by association. They were yours or Sam’s first before they were mine. Meg is the first friend I ever made on my own. Not because they were forced to live with me or because their other friend dragged me along with them, but because she likes _me_.”

“Cas, hey, wait. I didn’t start liking you just because you lived here, all right? If I’d met you any other way, I’d have liked you just the same. Sam would have too. And all our other friends.” He blew out a breath. “But I know I was being a jerk about Meg. I’d never make you give up a friend, man. I’m not some psycho asshole, I swear, I just... I’m scared you’re gonna outgrow me when we get to college.”

“What?” Cas looked at him like he was sprouting tentacles.

“Well, come on. That whole idea that we’re only friends because we had to live together, that runs both ways, you know? Would you really have given me the time of day if you hadn’t moved in here? I’m nothing special. I mean, you knew Bela only liked me for my car, but a lot of the others weren’t much better. A few of them just went out with me to make their dads mad or their ex-boyfriends jealous. They didn’t like _me_ , they just thought I was pretty.”

Cas smirked. “You _are_ pretty.”

“Shut up.” Dean felt relief wash over him. “You done getting snot on my shirt now, ya cry baby?” he teased, running a thumb across Cas’s cheekbone in gentle contrast to the words.

“I won’t outgrow you, Dean. Every single day I find a new reason to love you, even on the days like today when you make me crazy.”

He said it with such quiet conviction that Dean couldn’t help but believe it.

\---

Dean couldn’t wait for the moving to be done. He and Cas had gotten an apartment off campus together while they took classes at Augustana University. John wasn’t thrilled that Dean was attending a liberal arts college, but he didn’t get a say, since Dean got a full scholarship for academics. Cas had of course gotten one too, but John wouldn’t have complained about his choice, regardless.

Finally, everything was unloaded and mostly unpacked. They ate pizza and bid a tearful goodbye to Mary, John and Sam. Then they were all alone in their new apartment.

Dean immediately pulled Cas in for a kiss. “I can’t believe we finally get to share a bed,” he said, running his hand through Cas’s hair.

“How about we go test it out?” Cas asked, without a trace of his normal shyness when it came to bedroom discussions.

“What? You serious?”

“Dean, we’ve been together over a year. I’d trust you with my life. I’ve mostly been waiting until we could really be on our own.”

“You mean you’ve been making me wait for nothing?” Dean pouted, but he wasn’t really upset.

“Not for nothing, Dean. For the ability to do things to you that I can only do when there’s no one to hear you scream my name.”

Dean didn’t know where his shy virgin of a boyfriend had gone, but he liked this new guy a lot too.

“Condoms and lube are in the hall bathroom in the toiletries box.”

“Wait for me on the bed,” Cas commanded.

Dean ran for the bedroom and kicked off his shoes and socks, then bounced backward onto the bed eagerly. Not wanting to wait through tedious things later, he also slipped off his jeans. Dressed only in a T-shirt and boxer briefs now, he lay there and listened to Cas rummage through a box, feeling as if hundreds of firecrackers were going off underneath his skin.

Finally, Cas walked through the door, triumph written on his face. He held the lube in one hand and the condoms in the other. He tossed them onto the bed and set about stripping down to the same level of undress as Dean.

Then he climbed on the bed and kissed Dean with such fervor it made him dizzy.

“Once you get tested, we can skip the condoms,” he said as he kissed down Dean’s neck, lighting off more fireworks.

“Tested for what?” Dean asked, only half aware of what Cas was saying.

Cas moved back till they were eye to eye again. “Trigonometry.” He rolled his eyes. “STDs, Dean.”

“Why would I need to get tested? I haven’t had sex, either.”

Cas looked stunned.

“Wait, how did you not know that? I told you just about everything. You don’t think I’d have mentioned if I had sex?”

“But... everyone at school said....”

Dean glared. “What.”

“They said you and Rhonda did it and Cassie caught you and that’s why you two broke up.”

Dean laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Dude. Try _I_ caught _them._ That’s why me and Cassie broke it off.” He snorted. “You really think Rhonda Hurley is who I’d wanna give my virginity to?” Then he remembered where they were and that they were half-dressed and about to be naked. “There really never was anyone I wanted except you.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Cas seemed intent after that on kissing every single inch of Dean’s body and Dean couldn’t find it in him to object. He felt like he should be doing more for Cas, but he felt too limp and lost to really do much more than writhe and moan under Cas’s mouth and hands.

Before long, they had both lost their remaining clothes and, wow, being naked with someone was new, but it was _good_. Cas naked was really, really good. Cas naked and touching Dean was even better.

They had shared rushed blowjobs whenever they'd had a few minutes before Dean’s parents were due home, but it was nothing that could have prepared Dean for the slow white hot torture that was Cas’s tongue licking a languid stripe from his balls to his tip. None of his prior experience had gotten him ready for the perfect wet suction of Cas sucking him down in slow motion, one centimeter at a time, until Dean thought he might come before Cas had even gotten halfway down his shaft.

Once he bottomed out and lifted off again, Cas set a steady pace of bobbing and licking and stroking his balls. It felt so amazing, it wasn’t long before Dean could tell he was close.

“Cas! Cas, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he gasped out.

“Mmm,” Cas moaned around him, nearly sending him over the edge.

Castiel pulled off though, then slid up to kiss Dean again. He shifted so that their cocks were aligned, then grabbed Dean’s left leg and bent it upward, so the top of Dean’s thigh pressed against his own stomach. Since they were kissing, Dean didn’t see him grab the lube, but he heard the bottle being opened. They’d talked about this day for a long time, deciding that Dean would be the one on the bottom, so he wasn’t surprised when cold wet finger slid between his cheeks, but he hissed at the temperature change.

“Sorry,” Cas said sheepishly. “Should have warmed it on my fingers first, I guess.”

He didn’t sound all that sorry to Dean, but once Dean felt the fingertip pressing against his opening, he didn’t care too much. He hadn’t expected it to feel so good, but it did. He’d thought there would be more discomfort, but all the nerves in the general vicinity of his dick were awake and turned on and this was just one more bundle of them, enjoying stimulation.

Cas worked him open with infinite patience, ignoring Dean’s requests to speed things up. After locating it the first time, Cas was able to find his prostate over and over again with startling precision. Very soon, Dean was exactly the screaming, incoherent mess that Cas had promised. He’d yelled himself hoarse on Cas’s name as Cas mercilessly thrust his fingertips into Dean’s prostate.

Finally, though, _finally_ , Cas was shifting again, pulling his fingers out and aligning himself once more. He lifted Dean’s other leg too and then Dean felt the head of his cock against his ass. He was nervous for a second, until Cas bent down to kiss him. Then he relaxed and Cas slowly pushed his way inside.

 _Not a virgin anymore_ , he thought as Cas bottomed out inside him.

His whole body was trembling with want and need and too much oxygen and heat. He could feel every hot inch of Cas inside him, burning him up in all the best ways. His skin felt too warm, and the air in the room too cool, but when Cas started to rock and roll his hips, Dean didn’t worry so much about the temperature. He met Cas’s thrusts with his own and they built up a slow but steady pace.

“Fuck, Dean, you feel so good. Do you have any idea?”

Dean wasn’t sure Cas even realized he had spoken. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open and he looked like some pictures Dean had seen once of people blissed out on heroin. Ecstasy—the real kind, not the drug—had clearly taken hold. _I did that to him_ , Dean thought. It made him feel both powerful and precious, somehow.

“I love you,” Cas said, opening his eyes at last. “Since the day we met, Dean.”

“Love you back, Cas. You feel—ah, fuck—you feel so good too. Glad it was you. Oh, shit, right there, Cas, _right there_!”

Cas had once again found his prostate. This time, with his cock trapped between their bodies, Dean couldn’t stop himself from coming. He barely had time to yell out a choked, “Cas!” before the feeling swept through him, curling his toes and bowing his back and spurting hot fluid all over his belly.

“The orgasm face is supposed to be so unattractive. How can it look so beautiful on you?”

They kissed again and Dean let his hands wander all over Cas now, making up for all the not-touching he had done earlier. Then he could feel Cas’s strokes getting erratic and knew he was close. Dean rolled his hips slightly, allowing Cas deeper access and that was all she wrote.

“Ahh, Deean!”

Cas attempted to bury himself as deeply into Dean as possible as he pumped his release into him. Then he dropped down onto one hand and kissed Dean deeply for a moment before collapsing to the side.

“That?” Dean said, stroking a hand through Cas’s damp hair. “Was definitely worth waiting for.”

Cas lifted up and looked into Dean’s eyes searchingly. “So were you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. The final trope in the challenge. Bless you all for coming along with me on this. I had so much fun, not just writing, but talking to all of you. This month has been amazing and I love you. 
> 
> Okay. SO. Since I am going to miss that interaction so much and because I know you all have tropes you didn't get to see, I am going to allow everyone to suggest ONE trope that they would really like to see. However many suggestions I get, that's how many more chapters I will add to this. It won't be first come, first served, just like the list wasn't in order. They'll be written in the order the muse strikes me. And I won't necessarily write them every day. But I will write them and as soon as I can. So think up good ones! The person who suggests it will get a shout out in the notes (unless I forget, which hopefully I won't.) Ready? Set? GO! ♥


	31. Nothing to see here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Former end, saved for comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving this to a new post.

This has been moved to part 2 of this 'verse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just keeping the chapter because I want to preserve the comments.


	32. LINK ONLY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an update for the people who are only subscribed to the fic and not to me, to make sure you know I'm now continuing these in a new place.

# New chapter of reader request prompt (and all future chapters) [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5201738)

**Author's Note:**

> # I Love You ♥


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